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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29337999">Honour Bound II</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rifa/pseuds/Rifa'>Rifa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bonded [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Voltron: Legendary Defender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alpha Shiro (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Dark, Babies, Blood and Violence, Complicated Relationships, Flashbacks, Galra Empire, Galra Keith (Voltron), Galra Shiro (Voltron), Imprisonment, Intersex, M/M, Omega Keith (Voltron), Omega Verse, Possessive Behavior, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rescue, Reunions, Sexual Slavery, blade of mamora</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:14:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>38,444</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29337999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rifa/pseuds/Rifa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith has been "Akira" for over a year, bonded to a complicated Empire alpha and now a parent to two young kits. He has learned to accept his place collared and imprisoned within the Empire and at the whims of their breeding program, despite the memories that haunt him in his darkest hours. But everything is about to change, putting their bond to the test as their world turns upside down.</p><p>Part 2 of Honour Bound, the follow up to the dark omegaverse story.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Keith/Shiro (Voltron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bonded [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066022</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>336</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome back everyone! I started this eariler than expected and honestly its because I am so eager to share this with you after having it live rent free in my mind for months. </p><p>This fic will carry on with similar content and themes from Honour Bound: non con, oppressive systems, imprisonment, gender essteinalism, violence, and all that. As in the previous fic, Keith is intersex with both sex gentalia and there will be a lot of AFAB terms. I don't want to speak too generally to the content of the fic beyond this *yet* but remember I put in content warnings and tags in the notes of each chapter so you can remain as informed as possible about what you are about to read.</p><p>If you have somehow stumbled onto this fic and haven't read Honour Bound I would recommend you do so! </p><p>I love you all, thank you for your readership and support. I can't wait to unravel this story for you!</p><p>---Chapter 1 CW &amp; Tags---</p><p>Fic typical oppression and political strife, sexism, gender issues, threat of authoritarian violence,<br/>anxiety, PTSD/Flashbacks, vehicle crash, nightmare imagery, minor character death, rejection<br/>issues, complicated relationship, oral sex, vaginal sex, sex as a coping mechanism,<br/>breastfeeding &amp; childcare, light gender dysphoria, dishonesty</p><p>Tags:<br/>Space travel, rebels, espionage, anxiety, PTSD/Flashbacks, nightmares, minor character death<br/>mention, babies, scenting, touch starved, oral sex, grinding, teasing, riding, vaginal sex, big<br/>cock, intersex, multiple orgasms, bond marks, biting, cuddling, knotting, lots of come, domestic<br/>life, babies, breastfeeding, more anxiety, dishonesty, self doubt</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Karthulian System spanned out before Keith, one of the backwater systems he was permitted to run transports through. There were no Empire bases or blockades, even patrols were rare here despite the system being claimed territory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith piloted the small cruiser through the empty system with ease. There was a freedom in flying through these voids, he didn’t have to worry about replicating the protocols and flight patterns of Empire ships when they were alone out here. He banked close to the atmospheres of the elemental planets, coasting and riding the kickbacks the gravitational pulls made as they brushed again the ship.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A direct route would be faster,” Kren grumbled from his control panel. “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>safer</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Keith, this isn’t supposed to be a joyride.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith eased back into his seat slowly, ears pinning as he let the ship reassume a neutral flight path, “Just don’t get many opportunities to fly outside of regulated systems,” Keith shouldn’t argue, not with a more senior Blade, but he couldn’t help but defend his gently bruised ego, “Helps to have hands-on experience with the manoeuvres from the simulators.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kren huffed, a sound that meant anything from disapproval to humour, it was impossible to tell with him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Be thankful that you haven’t needed to put that training to use,” Kren hunched back over his holo readouts and control panels, eyes darting back and forth over scans and electric maps. “Just because the Empire doesn’t have regular patrols through this system doesn’t mean we won’t encounter anyone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their ship was an Empire transport cruiser that had been taken by the Blade during a siege on a station. It had been gutted of all the technology that would target and track it on the Empire’s internal networks and had replaced it with a complicated cloak of false identifications, serial numbers that would trail off long enough to be mistaken by the Empire’s systems long enough to let them sneak through the cracks. It was hiding in plain sight, but it only worked if Keith kept to the protocol and hoped no Empire ship would attempt to contact them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Besides, there was a mission at hand. Kren had been in contact with a rebel faction building steam on one of the Empire’s mining planets, and while the Blade could not risk becoming involved with their small-scale rebellion, one of its members had proved she had substantial and important intel the Blade wanted. Keith had to deliver Kren to a station just outside of the mining colony, then lay low onboard for the hour it would take Kren to retrieve the mark and bring her aboard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the most involved mission Keith had been on. Most of his previous missions only required him to ferry members through occupied space, he had cut his teeth and tested his combat abilities many times, of course, but always in battles and missions on the edges of the Empire’s control. He had never been assigned to a mission that had him upon Empire shipspace. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had always been too risky for the Blade of Mamora to use Keith for espionage. Kolivan had ordered that from the beginning, even before Keith was allowed to attempt the trials. There had never been an omega Blade before, never in the order’s entire history. Keith was the first, he had proven himself after years of training and mentorship under his mother and other members of the Blade. But despite being accepted into the fold, Keith still fought to prove himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other blades treated him differently, he was acutely aware of it in the way they looked at him and the way they moved to protect him from danger. Usually it was like this, gently chiding him and reducing the chances he would end up in harm’s way, even when he was with the core members securing resistance for a small astroid nation the Empire had only sent drones to take. He had proven himself time and time again, fighting back and keeping up with the senior members in combat. But the first chance they had Keith was sent back to their hidden base, out of harm’s way, back to training in the simulators and doing the occasional ferry duty.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kolivan denied it. And when he couldn’t he would just shut the conversation down. No dissent in the ranks, no arguing with senior members. Keith just had to take it on the chin when his bids for missions were overlooked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So it was stupid of him to deviate from the flight path at all. He had just hoped a show of skill would, he didn’t know, prove that he was capable? But Kren was right, he needed to stick to the plan, especially as they came closer and closer to the station’s radar field.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you need me to go over the directives again?” Kren asked as their ship rounded the path of space debris, broken pieces of Empire and rebellion ships floating in permanent stasis. The take over of this mining planet had not been without battles, the remaining coalition nations had sent what they could spare from their defensive barricades. It had not been enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Keith answered, he did not need to go over it again, but he wanted to make up for his earlier indiscretion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me do all the talking,” Kren pulled himself from his seat and rounded to hit a couple of switches on the rigged up console, commands to keep the ship from being spotted as an anomaly. “We will have max one hour in and out, but we will be aiming to complete the task in a quarter of the time. Follow protocol, a hair out of line and the Empire’s flight control will be on us. What do you do if Empire forces issue orders to you while I’m gone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Comply, but do not let them board at any cost,” Keith answered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Correct, this is especially important for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kren pressed, “If an Empire galra sees you they will </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith frowned, “How will they know? I’m drenched in scent mask, there’s no way they would be able to tell I’m omega by just looking at me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They will know, Keith, even betas in the Empire are larger than you,” Kren plugged a pad into the console and began tapping away, he didn’t even look up as he impressed Keith’s sex designation deeper and deeper into him. “It doesn’t matter when you’re among the Blade, but it’s all that matters to the Empire.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith had heard that since the day he presented omega. It was part of what pushed him to join the Blade of Mamora fully, not just as one of their entrusted wards in one of their bases to be protected. He wanted to fight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Piloting was fine too. He could do this. He would fly their little cruiser into the belly of the beast, right under their noses, and undermine their rule and supremacy in whatever ways he could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Kren gripped a stabilizing handle behind Keith, punching into the analog control panel. The screech of an alarm had Keith’s ears flatten, every display started blinking purple warnings flashing by so quick Keith could barely register what they said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith, kill the throttle,” Kren ordered and Keith complied with a brisk “yes sir”, pulling back on their speed until the cruiser drifted idly. “This is bad.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The readout on Keith’s control shorted, the holo shuddering and fading. Keith hit its console with the heel of his hand and it jumped back, edges wavering around the warning.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <em>
    <span>EMPIRE RADAR DETECTED - GHOST TARGETING DETECTED</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words peeled by in a loop, the alarm screeching and echoing in the small cockpit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Retreat pattern, Keith,” Kren ordered, jumping back into his seat and pulling his hood down. He was wearing an Empire transport uniform under his cloak for disembarking, but now he was pulling the holo camera towards him, away from Keith. “Don’t break flying protocol unless I tell you to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith gripped the control with one hand and flipped the throttle with the other. His hands were sweating under his suit, but he had to focus. He had flown through these alarms before, he had flown routes entirely through Empire radar before. The ghost targeting was what Empire ships used to attempt to identify space crafts without alerting them. Scanning through code and hardware remotely, sometimes they set satellites with them or placed them on uninhabited planets or even, one time, a lone asteroid. If the targeting determined they weren’t an Empire ship or weren’t where they should be, it would mean trouble.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith had never been targeted while in a completely uninhabited system before, and he knew there was little believability in a lone transport cruiser flying through it. Especially now that he was taking the slow evasive route, banking easy and rounding the asteroid field around one of the planets and away from their destination.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If it drops, redirect back,” Kren instructed, his pad was in his hand showing fragments of what the ghost targeting was receiving from their ship. Keith wasn’t versed in this tech end of the ships, even if he was able to sit down and watch the readout he wouldn’t know what it meant for them and their mission. “But if not-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kren was cut off by a droning dial, Keith’s ears perked towards the sound, </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone was requesting transmission</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kren?” Keith heard the warble in his voice before he had the chance to subdue it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quiet,” Kren threw aside his Blade cloak and readied the holo camera. Was he going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>answer?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Keith supposed that there was no other option, and he knew Kren would know what to do and what to say. But still, Keith had never seen an incoming transmission from Empire forces in all of his piloting missions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He held his breath and his heart hammered in his chest as Kren accepted the call.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The holo screen was an old model that had been retrofitted in and rarely saw use, it lit up dimly with a slight haze over it, defocusing the galra that glowered down at them wreathed in purple light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Identify yourself,” The galra growled, Keith set his jaw and locked his eyes to the starfield in front of him. The simulations would run programs like this, generic Empire galra barking threats and commands during retreats and combat. But this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He only needed to focus on his task, he trusted Kren and he knew Kren was trusting him to keep cool.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am Zhudduk, from the Napus 28 supply faction. Ship ID G-092847-0034,” Kren recited without a hitch, unblinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“State course and current directive,” The galra on the blurry screen ordered. Kren’s hand rested forward on the control console next to Keith. Keith blinked down to the radar readout next to the Blade’s hand and saw a reading begin to ping on it. They were being approached.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We were taking a shipment of labour and supply codes to the Tronoter station but encountered an unexpected gravtial storm that pulled us off course, we are redirecting,” Kren was ready with the cover, Keith knew he had pulled the ID and the covers from the Empire’s internal records. The system would verify it and they would be gone before anyone noticed anything amiss. Or at least, they would if they weren’t currently tailing them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No distress signal has been detected along that route,” The galra responded, “Is your ship damaged? Our technicians are not recognizing the readouts from its hardware.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t a good sign. Keith’s hands became fists around the control, itching to slam the throttle and push the little cruiser past its protocol speeds and blasting out of radar range. He could do it, he knew he could. He had done the evasion simulations a thousand times, never lost to capture or pilot errors. All he needed was a sign from Kren to get them out of here and he would be cutting through the gas atmospheres and using them to cloak their retreat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Kren did not signal for it, instead he extended a single finger across the radar where the blinking pursuer was gaining on them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir, there was a minor collision,” Kren was playing it easy, “We will file reports and have the ship serviced when we arrive at Tronoter.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith couldn’t handle it, it was as if he could feel the Empire ship breathing against his neck. He pulled up a visual read on their surroundings and watched as it scanned and then honed in on the ship. It was trailing, stalking them like a predator in the grass. It was a patrol, a mid-size war cruiser whose only job was to shoot down enemy ships, if not take them prisoner. Keith’s tail twisted around his chair anxiously, they </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get out of here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kren tapped silently against the radar, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay calm</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but Keith knew that they could only delay them so long. No doubt their technicians were feeding their ship’s codes through the system, soon they would find their ship did not exist in their fleet, that their cover was false, and by then it would be too late to evade.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Turn off your throttle,” The galra ordered, “We will dock the ship within our airlock and take you to Tronoter.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kren,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Keith whispered between clenched teeth. Kren tapped again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Kren answered, “Control on our ship is malfunctioning, so we will reduce speed to a stop.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith looked up at the display and saw the patrol ship kick up speed in response, gaining on them. He didn’t know what Kren’s plan was but there was no way having their cruiser pulled on board theirs would end well. He reached to the throttle, took a breath, and flung to full speed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Kren lurched in his seat, hands scrambling to end the transmission as the galra on the other end growled out in alarm. </span> <span>The little cruiser thrust forward, the force of it holding Keith back against his seat as he turned hard on the control, the cruiser tilted and cut through the atmospheric haze of a gas planet and out the other end with a long trail on their tail.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Kren’s voice joined the screeching alarms in the cockpit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We just have to outmanoeuvre it until we are out of its radar range!” Keith had to yell over the cacophony. “I’ve run this a thousand times I know what I’m doing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No you </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Kren countered, one of the alarms stopped and Keith’s eyes darted for blink to see Kren was furiously working the ship’s system on the many control panels around him to recalibrate himself along with Keith’s turn. “Our </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> objective was the mission, and even if we lose them we have already lost that knowledge.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Knowledge or death</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Keith’s interpretation of their creed had always been more complex than the senior blades. Without knowledge they would die, the rebellion would crumble if they were without it. Their way of life would vanish. The Empire held all the cards and would crush them with their knowledge. But if Keith and Kren died out here or in the hands of the Empire, that loss would mean that their skills and knowledge would be lost. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Besides, “The mission was a failure as soon as they spotted us,” Keith responded. His holo screen was locked on the patrol pursuing them. It was too slow to catch them if they kept to full speed, they had that and agility on their side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If we get out of this,” Kren growled, his unlocked the limitations the control panel put onto the ship to keep it within protocol, kicking up its speed and enabling its full cloak. It would take a moment to initialize before Keith could use it. “You’ll never do a mission again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith clenched his jaw, beating down the anger that leapt out at those words. Now was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the time for it. He shut it out and focused on flying. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had about two more minutes until their cloak would be ready. It was long, that amount of time without an exit strategy would mean a dead end. Keith wanted to be well out of reach of the patrol within a minute. Every second counted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith had shaved off milliseconds on his records in the simulators over the past years. He had run randomized evasions, different routes and different obstacles. He imagined he was at home, in the too-big simulation chair rattling around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The patrol was gaining slowly but wasn’t able to twist and turn through the asteroids and in and out of the atmosphere like they could. The planets and debris within the abandoned system were close, an obstacle course, but it also meant that Keith had fewer routes he could take to get them out. There was a real chance the Empire’s patrol behind them would calculate his best chance for escape before he could and cut him off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eighty seconds to go. Keith was sweating, the joints in his hands tense as he wove in and out of a debris field. Still the patrol ship loomed behind them like a shadow. Unlike the simulations, this ship had real, thinking galra on it, not just a randomized set of codes made up of previously recorded incidents. And it wasn’t lost on Keith that the ship had not kicked to full speed in pursuit. It was waiting, biding its time as it trailed them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They needed the cloak. Without it, there would be no evasion. Kren started rattling off coordinates of known Empire ships, of trafficked areas and stations and planets that would report them as soon as they fell within their radar. The field was narrowing for them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith made a calculated risk and pulled back on the control, shifting the axis of the ship and throwing their path into a mess of fragmented rock, spinning slowly in the gravitational pull of a nearby core. Kren gripped a stabilizer but said nothing as they darted between them, the gravity pulling them back like a rubber band. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Forty-five seconds. Keith had it mapped out mentally. He would pull the ship through this drag, dodging the debris in their way, and rocket out the other side of the core’s gravity. The patrol ship wouldn’t be able to follow them straight through, it would need to go around, by the time it had the clearance to speed up again they would be cloaked and gone in a blink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The risk of it never entered Keith’s mind. In his mind, there no other outcome than them shooting off cloaked and free.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The little cruiser was agile, sensitive to Keith’s steering, but had a split second delay every so often. Keith pulled the control to safely pass one of the orbiting boulders and the control stalled. Keith had left no margin for error. The millisecond lost held in Keith’s chest, suspended as if all time had stopped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ship turned violently. Hurdling suddenly in the wrong direction. Keith and Kren were tossed about in their safety straps, alarms ringing and lights flashing red in Keith’s eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We grazed the wing!” Kren shouted over the noise. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ship shuddered around them as if in pain. As if it could feel the panic Keith was holding back. He wrestled the control, pulling to right their path as the ship twisted and spun at full speed out of the gravitational pull. It was the wrong direction. They were going to box themselves in, caught between this patrol’s pursuit and the next system’s patrols. They would already be alerted to them, no doubt locked on by now. Options were disappearing before Keith’s eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cloak. Keith sucked in a harsh breath and slammed the initiation for the cloak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing happened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We lost it,” Kren shouted, unable to disarm the screeching and flashing around them. “It needs to reinitialize.” That meant it would need another two minutes. They didn’t have two minutes. “We’re not gonna make it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes we will,” Keith thrust the words out from gritted teeth. “We are going to make it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The holo screen that had held the Empire galra’s face stuttered to life, flickering as transmission began without them accepting it. Kren didn’t react, didn’t turn the holo camera towards him as its light blared on to reveal them to the Empire. The control in Keith’s hands stopped responding, as it were hijacked, barreling deeper and deeper into a speckless darkness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A voice rattled through the transmission. One that made every hair on Keith’s neck stand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>DESIGNATION AKIRA-0922381</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No. No this wasn’t happening. Keith lashed out at the control deck, the lights flashing dimly before blinking out. The cockpit slowly went dark, as if the light was leaking out into the inky blackness that surrounded the ship. He had to escape, he had to get out of here, but the safety straps no longer had buckles he could undo. He turned to cry out to Kren, to tell him to escape, but he was already dead, eyes blank, the light slowly being eaten up by his gaping mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira woke. Tense and twisted in the bedsheets. They were tight around him, snaking from around his leg up to his shoulder. It took one terrifying trembling second for him to blink through his terror and see the gentle star display over his head and realize where he was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was on an Empire warship. Evidently somewhere near Naxzela, based on the star patterns he could see in the display. He had been here for almost two years now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He freed himself of the sheet, sat up and rubbed his eyes warily. Another night terror. They were coming so often lately. What was it this time? He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and breathed slowly. He was flying, he thought, back before all… </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only thing behind his closed eyes was that last horrifying image, stark as the rest of the dream became hazy and insubstantial, leaving him with a sick feeling in his stomach. He dropped his hands into his lap and let out a long, low breath, willing the dream and the memories out of his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira opened his eyes to the small, clean apartment that had become his entire world. The star display covered the bedroom over the dome-like ceiling, a safe little cave within the frustratingly familiar quarters. The living room was the same as it had been when he first arrived, save for the kits’ things thrown into the mix. All the same. Always the same. At least there was some comfort in familiarity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned and craned to check on the kits. Enzra and Dhas were both sleeping in their low, wide cradle, undisturbed by their birth parent’s night terror. They had grown in the past six months, larger and more aware of their surroundings, but still too young to do much else besides eat and sleep. Dhas was clutching one of his soft toys in his little fist, his favourite little purple mouse. He fussed unless he had something in his little fingers. Enzra was drooling, little pink tongue peeking between pursed lips, twitching as if she was dreaming of nursing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira reached down to touch them. To ground himself in their reality. He stroked the pale markings that Enzra was developing around her little ears and brushed the back of his hand along Dhas’ round cheek. They smelled content, peaceful in their oblivious sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He settled back on the bed, casting his attention to the alpha that lay there in deep slumber.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro. Akira’s assigned alpha, admiral of the ship they were on, the sire to Akira’s kits. His hulking form took up most of their bed, sprawled out comfortably with his long, strong legs, free of the sheets and blankets. Akira was glad that Shiro hadn’t woken up to his night terror, Shiro was more concerned about them than he was. He would fret and look at Akira with wide eyes full of guilt and regret, pouring it all out as if it were a shared wound between them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> his mate, after all, and for what it was worth he had proved he would do just about anything to soothe over the pains Akira carried. Akira had learned that what he could do was limited, that he was caught in the Empire’s web too. Restricted, indoctrinated, battered around by the system that was keeping Akira collared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Akira didn’t want to waste Shiro’s day off agonizing over stupid things that neither of them could do anything about. Shiro was gone so much and Akira craved his presence, his scent, his attention. It had become harder and harder to get, ever since Shiro’s leave ended and he returned to duty he had become distant. He shook off questions about his next leave, about medical exams, about the Program, he was only receptive to the here and now within their four walls. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Akira </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have liked that change. Despite the means, the agreement they had made long ago to not discuss the Empire had helped Akira. He was able to push past his loathing, to ignore it as best he could, he had found a comfortable place here within the restrictions and with Shiro. But now, Shiro avoided his eye, he would be the one looking off in the distance and unreachable when it took him too deep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And, because it was Shiro, he never opened up about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira closed the distance between them, his heart warming with every inhale of his alpha’s scent. He pressed a kiss to the scar across Shiro’s nose and hummed as the alpha blinked awake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes were bright, golden and warm, “Oh, hey.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro,” Akira wriggled where he knelt on the bed and he pressed another kiss to the alpha’s cheek. “You’re off duty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro stretched where he laid before patting down the mattress and casting his eyes expectantly around them, “The pups still asleep?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In the cot,” Akira’s tail swayed behind him, shoving through the balled up sheets. He couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering down Shiro’s body now that the sheet was pulled from him. Shiro was large, wide and strong in a way Akira had always appreciated on galras. His colouring was darker than Akira’s, save for the white markings that crowned him between his short ears. His battle scars crisscrossed over his body, making what looked like comet trails in his dark velvety coat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reached out and stroked Shiro’s muscled stomach with his fingertips. Shiro grunted uneasily in response, “Woah,” Shiro responded in a soft, quiet voice. “The pups will wake up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“No they won’t,” Akira pressed closer, creeping up over Shiro’s body and pressing his nose to the alpha’s scent gland at his neck. “I can be quiet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s scent erased the bad memories. The tension in Akira’s body loosened with each deep inhale of the alpha’s strong, masculine scent. It tickled his nose, pried deep until it twitched in Akira’s head. Fuck, he was already wet and hard. He lapped at the scent, tasting Shiro, sucking and purring at Shiro’s delicate, restrained groans.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s large hands traveled up and down Akira’s back, sides and eventually settled on his ass. Akira’s tail curled, he pressed down to bite at Shiro’s bond mark as his body presented on its own. Shiro was warm, Shiro was strong, Shiro could make him feel so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The alpha’s hands spread over Akira’s cheeks, enveloping them, prying him open as Shiro kissed his bond mark in return. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck me,” Akira whispered urgently. “Quick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro didn’t say anything, he rarely did during sex anymore. Akira sat up, straddling his alpha, and untied the dainty little garment that covered his cock and pussy. Shiro’s thumbs rubbed idle circles on his hips, Shiro’s eyes distant as he watched the thin fabric pull away with strings of slick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira could feel Shiro’s cock hard under him, held back by the Empire issued undergarments he only recently began to wear to bed. He had stopped being casually nude with Akira. It was probably just because of the kits, Akira rationalized. But the more Shiro froze him out the more he feared it was because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t want him anymore.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro held Akira’s hips as he grinded his wet pussy and hard little cock over his clothed erection over and over. It might have felt cute, if Akira wasn’t waiting for a reaction. Shiro </span>
  <em>
    <span>smelled</span>
  </em>
  <span> aroused and interested, but he wouldn’t meet Akira’s eyes, he seemed almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>sad.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro?” Akira stopped, his hands falling onto his alpha’s chest to feel his beating heart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sorry,” Shiro frowned and shook off his melancholy, he shifted and pulled the small garment off. “Just distracted, thinking about…” He shook his head and smiled, “What do you need, baby?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira told himself it was about Empire matters. Some trouble he had taken from his duties on the bridge and would not disclose with him. He never did. Which was fair, Akira was only his omega. Akira had once been an enemy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can ride you,” Akira offered, reaching to stroke Shiro’s cock. Fuck, he was so big, Akira never got over it. “Treat you on your day off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro hummed and settled back on the bed, propped up on the pillows like some fantastical king, “However you want, Akira.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro always said things like that, as if he were opening the floor to Akira and giving him some great gift of freedom. It used to make Akira angry. It didn’t anymore. Shiro was giving him everything he could, except for the connection that was dwindling between them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira knelt down between his alpha’s thick, open legs and met his cock with adoring lips. He kissed the head of Shiro’s cock, gently sucking up the salty precum that was already leaking from his slit. Just as his scent, his flavor soothed the barbs and filled the emptiness in Akira. He could not deny it, he didn’t know what he would do without this alpha.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s hands fell into Akira’s hair, tousled and tangled from sleep, long black locks in his alpha’s fingers as Akira took him into his mouth. Shiro was large, not just in length, but girth. Akira had to open wide to give his cock purchase into his mouth, had to adjust his angle so it could peek into his tight throat. He could take it deep if he tried, or if Shiro held him, but his intention was not to have his alpha empty into his throat. He wanted Shiro’s knot to pop inside of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira suckled and purred at Shiro’s affection, milking </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> out of his alpha as much as he could. He pulled away as his jaw began to ache and scampered up on top of Shiro. Akira straddled him, painting the underside of his hard and twitching cock with his slick hole. He slid up and down the girth, savoring it, his prick dribbling slick all over them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Such a tease,” Shiro smirked and Akira’s heart skipped a beat. He needed more of that, of unguarded affection and attention. “I thought we had to be quick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was right, the kits could wake at any time. He nudged his slick pussy up at the tip of Shiro’s cock, gripped it with a hand to keep it standing and slowly eased onto it. It breached him easily, spearing through the layers of slick and filling him. Akira’s cock was burning hot, twitching and leaking as Shiro’s girth demanded from Akira.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akira’s mind went blank as he wriggled, bounced and worked himself nice and open for his alpha’s cock. Shiro’s hands were at his hips, guiding him gently, clawing at his cheeks as he bounced. Akira’s clothed tits, still huge with milk, bounced on every downward thrust. Akira was feeling it, the warm, tingly euphoria of giving it up for his alpha and giving in to everything he had once held back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slammed down harder and faster, meeting the base of Shiro’s fat cock and filling himself to the brim. It almost hurt. But that was what Akira liked the most, when the pleasure and the pain melded together and demanded more and more of him. He wanted to take that challenge, he wanted to overcome it, he wanted to give up and forget everything and live in the tangle of chemicals that danced in his brain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so wet, baby,” Shiro’s hands moved up Akira’s back, his eyes gazing up at him in reverence. The eye contact burned and Akira tightened up, gripping Shiro tightly inside. Shiro never looked at him like this anymore. Not unless they were like this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A cascade trickled down from his spine and pierced deep in his abdomen, a hard won orgasm shuddered against him and slick gushed. His vision was fuzzy and suddenly Shiro felt as if he were deeper inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, fuck, fuck me,” Akira gasped between breaths, shuddering down onto Shiro’s chest as he trembled, overwhelmed. “Shiro, knot me, please-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro wrapped his arms around Akira with a deep grunt and lifted him. The world tumbled around and Akira was pressed to the bed, legs spread in the air, and Shiro was sucking down on his scent gland and </span>
  <em>
    <span>slamming</span>
  </em>
  <span> into him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thrusts were slow and </span>
  <em>
    <span>deep</span>
  </em>
  <span>, purposeful and Akira felt the </span>
  <em>
    <span>slap</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Shiro’s sac against his ass every time his cock sheathed inside. Shiro was large over him, all hot muscle and sweat-dewed fur, claws in Akira’s hair as the alpha mounted and claimed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had stopped hurting, Akira’s hole loosening to accommodate his mate’s cock. The hormones and repeated orgasms turning all sensation into something intoxicating. Akira wanted this moment to last for hours, wanted Shiro to hammer him deep in his pussy until he was well relieved. He wanted to be mated, to be filled, to be knotted and made into whatever his mate required of him. He wanted his mind to stay this empty, his heart to stay this blissful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s sucking kisses turned to teeth and Akira muffled a cry against Shiro’s chest. A new burgeoning girth pressed at Akira, pulling and pushing and demanding and Akira gushed slick upon the realization that it was Shiro’s knot. Thick, too thick, stretching and stretching until </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akira drooled against Shiro’s chest, moaning dumbly as the alpha held him down with his body weight as his knot pushed in millimeter by millimeter and tried to pull out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira whined and his pussy gripped it, refusing to let it out. Shiro might as well be trying to pull his tail off. Shiro’s hips snapped in minute, depeserate thrusts and he growled long and low in his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hot come burst from him deep inside Akira and he met it with another orgasm, small cock twitching between them and covering their stomachs in slick. Akira shuddered and twitched in Shiro’s arms, Shiro nuzzled against him and held him tight against the aftershocks. Grounding him as they both panted and whined. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s knot was emptying, wave after wave of thick molten hot come plugged up inside of him. Akira kissed at every bit of skin he could, hoping that Shiro had released whatever it was that was making him distant. Whatever it was he was bringing to their home from the bridge. He hoped it was medicine for him too, his alpha helping him forget everything that was hurting him. Forget the nightmares and the old memories and replace them with this. With the attention of his alpha, with being content in the empire, with their little family.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira was not due to have another heat until the kits were about a year old and omega wombs were not receptive to alpha seed so soon after a pregnancy. But he couldn’t help but think of having more kits while Shiro filled him up, and part of him felt, what? Excited? Hopeful? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro had once been the one chasing softness and affection, both of which Akira denied him, but now it was as if their roles had switched somehow. Akira wanted to recreate whatever it was that pulled them closer, solidified their bond, to relive it again. Shiro seemed disinterested, except for moments like this, where he held Akira with trembling arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Feel better?” Akira murmured against his alpha as the waves from his sac started to ebb. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I feel good,” Shiro said, although not convincingly. He held Akira as he sat up, careful and slow since they were still connected. “Are you feeling okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira blinked up at him, trying to read his eyes and failing. Shiro was shielding, not allowing himself to be vulnerable and not being honest. He was lukewarm. Akira chased away his fears and nodded, “Yeah I’m alright.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro brushed the hair from Akira’s eyes fondly, “Good. Sorry I went a bit rough there, I didn’t hurt you did I?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The knot was shrinking, heavy under the weight of Shiro’s cock inside of Akira. The come-slick walls lax as the knot slipped out messily. Akira clenched at the sudden emptiness, his hand catching the thick seed before it spilled over the sheets. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No I’m fine,” Akira mumbled as they rearranged, Shiro wiping himself down on a clean cloth and passing it to Akira. “It was just-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a sudden snuffling, stuttering cry. Dhas’ little huffed upset he had every time he woke up away from his parents’ warmth. Akira wiped the come up and jumped into a simple silky tunic from where he shrugged it off last night and moved to the crib. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Enzra was awake too, sleepily rubbing at her face with clumsy little fists as her brother cried. She blinked up and gurgled while Dhas’ shaking little arms thrashed his mouse around with his upset wails. Akira cooed as he covered them, letting them catch his scent and warmth. Dhas’ wailing simmered to a hiccuping whine, his nose wrinkled as he stared up at Akira. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were both so perfect. So pure and soft and perfect. Akira scooped them up in his arms, bouncing their warm weight as he carried them to the lounge. Shiro watched with perked ears, his scent shifting to the delicate scent he carried when the kits were in need. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira settled in the nest of cushions and blankets that he had made up for nursing. The kits squirmed around, fussing and flinging their clumsy little limbs against him impatiently. Shiro stripped the sheets and repleaced them, eager to be rid of the evidence of their sex now that the kits were up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It made Akira uneasy. Shiro had seemed happy, hadn’t he? It always seemed to melt away from him when Akira had to tend to the kits. All of the programs on his little pad had told him over and over that alphas were not always comfortable with their pups, that sending the pups to the Program was just the smart and considerate thing to do for an alpha. Akira had rejected it every time. They were not going to give the kits up. But he hadn’t expected Shiro to distance himself. He hadn’t expected that to </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span> as bad as it did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Within a moment he had taken his tits out and settled the kits in for their first feeding. They were both nestled in the cushions and blankets, freeing up Akira’s arms so he wouldn’t be exhausted by the time they finished their breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro wandered over, now fully dressed despite not having to report for duty today, and stared at the nursing pups with a mile-long look. Akira took in a long, deliberate breath, and focused on the kits. He enjoyed nursing, how it was a physical bonding moment with his children, but he had never gotten used to how large and heavy it made his chest. And having Shiro stare at him like this teased that discomfort to life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re dressed,” Akira said, willing his discomfort and upset away. “I thought you were staying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro took in a shuddering breath, as if </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was nervous and holding something in. His pad chimed in his hand and Akira trembled, “I have something I need to go do, and I have something I need to tell you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh no. The possibilities spun around in Akira’s mind so rapidly he felt faint. He ground his teeth, letting the pain of that keep him grounded, “What is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dhas lost his nipple, snuffing and whining at the discomfort in the air. He was so sensitive to scent, so tuned in to what his parents were feeling that he cried every time Akira wasn’t able to keep his anger or fear in check. Akira shushed him, stroking his little warm face until he began nursing again, little tear running down his cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro looked, what? Shaken? Upset? What was going on with him? Why did he look so troubled by seeing the kits cry? By seeing his omega nursing and caring for them? The tangle that had existed in Akira’s stomach since they were born tightened at the possibilities, at the chance that Shiro </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> had enough of child-rearing and was arranging to surrender them at last. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m being reassigned to a new post,” Shiro forced the words out, not meeting Akira’s eye. “I decided I wanted a more stable environment for you and the pups, so I am going to be reassigned to a station. Less battles, more colony management and uh, resources and stuff.” Shiro waved a hand dismissively and then smoothed out his uniform.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira’s tail twisted and flicked beside him as he processed that. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>reassignment?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akira didn’t know much about the internal workings of assignments and ranks within the Empire, nothing more than the basics really, but something about this seemed… off. An Empire galra, a breeding alpha at that, stepping away from a highly respected post was almost unheard of. Shiro might not be the highest ranked, but being admiral of a warship was a huge deal. Anything more “stable” would be considered a downgrade.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was this Sendak’s doing? The galra that had been plaguing Shiro with blackmail and threats for months, the one who - ugh, Akira couldn’t even think of it without getting upset enough to make both of the kits cry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wanted a reassignment?” Akira asked, cutting off his anxious spiral. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I requested it,” Shiro answered, looking at his pad now, tapping out something beyond Akira’s vision. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When? You didn’t tell me,” Akira wasn’t sure why this made him nervous. There was no obvious threat, no clear tell that this was something Shiro felt he needed to hide from him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want to get your hopes up,” Shiro smiled weakly, “You’re probably sick of these quarters, the new quarters are bigger, has an oxygen garden and a wading pool instead of a steam room. Better for the pups.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira blinked. He tried to imagine leaving this room and found he could not. Not anymore. Any sort of excitement or interest in moving was dwarfed by his apprehension. The positive experiences Akira had under the rule of the Empire were few and far between, dripped out slowly as if to train him to expect nothing but scraps. It wasn’t Shiro’s fault, but he was an instrument to it. His ideas of gifts and rewards were miniscule, limited to pre-arranged catalogues and offerings made to starve omegas of pleasure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would like to have more space. But he did not know what moving to a station would entail. The knot in his stomach tightened again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We only have the pups for a few years, you are willing to change your assignment based on that?” It was too forward to ask. Akira wavered between being a partner to Shiro and being his pet, he knew, and sometimes he pushed too hard and would be left cold by Shiro. More and more lately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro moved towards the door and began to unseal it, “I am willing to change a lot, Akira. Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And without another word, Shiro left and the door sealed shut behind him. The security locks engaged, trapping Akira tightly into the four-room world he had been living in for what felt like forever. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Akira has a flashback, Shiro makes him a promise.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Bringing this out a little early as Im healing from top surgery presently and feel a little too eager to hear what yall think!!</p><p>PLEASE READ THE CW - this chapter is very heavy in the first half and I dont want anyone caught off guard. The story is gonna be kicking off properly in the next chapter once I am able to type for extended periods again! </p><p>Content Warning:</p><p>PTSD/Flashbacks, imprisonment, sensory deprivation, non-consensual bondage, rape mention, violence, non-consensual touching, abuse of authority, dehumanizing speech/activity, needles, medical themes, forced nasal swab, breeding/eugenics mentions, acts of violence by authority figures, blood, derogatory language, forced nudity, non-con sexual touching, collaring, panic attack/PTSD flashback/Emotional Flashback/depersonalization/dissociation.</p><p>Check end notes for extended content warning explainations</p><p>Tags:</p><p>PTSD, Flashbacks, sensory deprivation, non-consentual bondage, medical themes, violence, non consentual touching/sexual touching, forced nudity, imprisionment, panic attack, new born babies, systems of oppression, self doubt, baby bonding, anxiety,</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Keith had been in Empire custody for what felt like days. He wasn’t able to track the time. The galra officers had forced a hood over his head after they had dragged Kren out of the cell. It was tight, locking in close around his throat and the back of his head. Thick padding over his eyes and ears made it impossible to see or hear, the material had expanded into his nostrils to block his ability to scent as well. He was able to breathe through a set of thin tubes that pressed between his teeth, but only if he stayed calm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The darkness, the complete isolation and sensory depravity was doing the work of breaking him down. Keith was left with his wrists bound behind him, chained to the cell wall, legs aching from disuse as he swam in the nothingness they trapped him in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Blade of Mamora knew this tactic of breaking down a prisoner and had trained Keith and other Blades to withstand it. They called it “softening”, as it was meant to do the heavy work before interrogations and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>enhanced</span>
  </em>
  <span> interrogations that came after that. Withstanding this torment was key to protecting the Blade’s secrets, if you could keep your wits and your spirit strong in the darkness, they would need to work harder to break you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The harder the Empire needed to work to break you, the more a Blade could harden against the pain, the less they would tell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was the idea behind all their interrogation training. While it was impossible to know how well it worked in practice, the Blade had gone on for decades without integral information being leaked despite multiple captured operatives. So they reasoned that it must work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, Keith was an omega. And as Kren had warned him, they discovered that fact about him almost on sight. The Empire galra had confirmed both of their sexual designations with a pinprick blood test and the response to his identity being confirmed was immediate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In Keith’s worst nightmares, being outed to a group of Empire galra resulted in his clothes being ripped to shreds, in animalistic growling and rutting of a group rape immediately. But in reality, the galra went silent. They dragged Kren out and they muzzled Keith in the hood. No one touched him. No one claimed him as theirs. He had gone from a prisoner to an asset. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This felt worse somehow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith pushed himself to remember his training for softening. His mind was a sea of fear, waves crashing with every thought of </span>
  <em>
    <span>where did they take Kren</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>what is going to happen to me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He built a foundation in his mind, amidst those waves, letting each solid stone fact create a stone brick that would not be shifted by the fears that plagued him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My name is Keith. I am a member of the Blade of Mamora. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Keith started, centering himself, and slowly added more undeniable facts as bricks. His age, his birthplace, his parents' names, and so on. He visualized each grey stone brick stacking, laying themselves into a square within the murky waters. He built it up until it stood fast against the waves that crashed and fell away. He visualized himself inside of it, watching as the walls climbed above him and cast a shadow. This darkness was safe, his own, within the walls of who he was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The darkness became a home. One he let himself feel at ease in, as much as was possible, meditating on simple truths. He kept his fears in line, letting them pour against the walls and slip away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where are they taking me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Keith visualized his home back at base, the modified barracks wing that had once housed five Blades that now only housed him and his mother. He pictured his bunk, warm and safe, he mentally recounted every tiny detail he could. The threadbare rug that his father had brought from his home planet, the colors faded. The old bunks that his mother had converted into storage, housing rescued artifacts from civilizations now ground into dust by the Empire. He tried to recount each item, how it looked, how each felt in his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s thoughts would be interrupted by a sudden flood of liquid in his mouth. The breathing tubes set into a feeding mechanism, flushing liquid nutrients between his teeth. The sensation wasn’t new, he had experienced it in training, but it always shocked him out of his meditation. He would bite down, as he had been taught, to stop the flow enough to swallow and then be ready for the rest of it. If he choked or rejected the nutrients they would feed the tubes down into his throat and leave them there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Feeding was not done on a fixed schedule, which was done on purpose to warp his sense of time. He knew that, but knowing that didn’t stop his mind from trying to use it as a means to tell how long he had been masked, how long he had been imprisoned. He couldn’t use time to try to measure where they were taking him, although the star patterns and fields still scattered around in his mind’s eye, mapping out the possibilities.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tried to stop projecting possibilities. It was a labyrinth of fear he couldn’t get lost in, he had to keep his wits about him. He had to maintain the fortress he built within himself to protect his sanity and the Blade’s secrets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith was meditating on one of his training routines, flexing his neglected muscles in patterns to mimic it, when he felt hands on him. Large and rough, fisting his lades suit and hooking up under his arm to pull him to his feet. His legs trembled, aching from disuse, and he kicked out instinctively. His thrashing met nothing but air, his tail whipped violently to balance himself and was quickly restrained. He bit hard against the thin tubes in his mouth and jerked his body again, fighting for his footing now, for some baseline of gravity, and was rewarded with a swift punch to the gut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It hurt. His body remembered the beating he took when the galra had pried open the cruiser’s sealed doors and boarded, the electric shock of their control batons, the way it spasmed his muscles and made him drop his blade. He felt every bruise on his body anew from where they threw him against the walls and controls of his cruiser, from their boots and batons. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s tail pulled from the harsh grip subduing it, curling to try and tuck between his legs in fear. Keith hated it but his mind’s eye brought up an image of Kolivan, frowning down at him during interrogation training, </span>
  <em>
    <span>they will try to break you, do not assist them in doing so.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Fighting back while Keith was disarmed and restrained like this did nothing but help them. He was an asset, both as a Blade and as an omega, they would only hurt him as much as they deemed necessary. If he cooperated, he would reduce the harm that came to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pressed it into himself that this wasn’t surrender. Letting them carry and move him was not submission. Protecting himself from harm came in forms outside of resistance and violence. It was fine. He just needed to survive with the Blade’s secrets protected, or perish in order to keep them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only sense Keith had that he was being transported was the sensation of motion upon his body. The hands dragged him along, his toes occasionally brushing solid ground. He could not hear anything, he could not smell anything, he barricaded himself within his dark fortress and waited it out as bravely as he could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stopped and his feet met the ground. He stood carefully, muscles aching, hands still holding him firmly in place. He pulled against them lightly, just to see, and was held fast by hands stronger than him. So he stayed put for now, distantly aware of how weak he felt. The nutrients they had fed him had been sporadic and minimal, he knew it was simply enough to maintain his current health while depriving him of the energy needed to resist and fight. The Blades did fasting to learn how to fight and maintain their strength under similar conditions, the key was to preserve.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>More hands. Keith tensed. One flat against the side of his hooded head, pulling him to the side. The other at his shoulder, pulling his neck taunt at his scent gland. Keith didn’t realize he was trembling until he felt something thin and solid press against his neck. In his mind he pictured a blade about to cut and bleed him for butchering. But there was no cut to his skin, the material of his suit split under it and he felt the cold air brush at his scent gland. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No doubt his scent mask had worn off long ago. His omega scent would be filling the room, betraying all of his fear and anger and indignation. Keith hated how scent could betray you, spread your emotions and secrets so willingly. There was no training for it, nothing that could be done except invasive surgeries to cancel out the designations. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something damp patted his gland, soaking him up. Keith’s thin fur was wet when it pulled away, uncomfortable, then met with the sensation of damp fingers and - a needle pressed in. Keith tensed in surprise and the pain shot through, shocking him even more. There was nothing else to focus on or distract. The needle withdrew and Keith’s stomach twisted in fear and shame, feeling a hot wet streak trickle down his leg under his suit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no time to think. Keith was on the move again, dragged forward on his feet. He stumbled but was held, it didn’t matter if he let his feet dangle or not, he was powerless in the grip of two sets of hands. Finally they stopped, Keith breathing hard through the thin tubes between his teeth, faint from the lack of oxygen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hands at his head. Keith stiffened on his feet. The pressure on the front of his face relented, his face tingling where it had pressed against him for what must have been days. The intrusions at his nostrils sagged and lost shape, Keith pushed air through them for the first time in days, feeling the heat of it on his face within the hood. The pressure at his mouth relented and his jaw hung lax within the hood’s confines, no longer held shut. The tubes shifted, grinding his teeth before the device was fully removed from his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith gasped, jaw shuddering and spit rolling over his lips. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Every shift of his jaw was met with spikes of pain. He groaned, or at least, it was probably a groan. He heard the muffled hum of his voice inside of his head but nothing else. Fingers pressed at either side of his mouth, forcing his mouth open. He snarled, lip peeling back to show his canines before he snapped his teeth shut. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>clack</span>
  </em>
  <span> of his teeth hurt but he didn’t care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hands holding him in place jerked him backwards, pulling his shoulders back as one of those hands fit around his throat. Keith snarled, the vibration of it the only sound he could hear, and the hands held his head in place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hood sagged, gravity dragging it low over Keith’s clenched eyes. It was peeled away and the light that hit his eyelids was blinding. A cascade of sound hit him all at once. Voices, beeping machines, low rumbling breaths, the high pitched hum of holo readouts, the air circulation and then the low, distant drone he recognized as a ship engine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Black spots danced in Keith’s eyes. It was too </span>
  <em>
    <span>bright</span>
  </em>
  <span> after being stuck in the darkness, his eyes hurt and couldn’t focus. The room around him was blurry, nothing but the purple glare of the empire ship and shifting forms dressed in white. He wanted to close his eyes, to gentle the pain sudden sight gave him but he needed to watch. He needed to see and he needed to fight and protect himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Try again now that he’s distracted,” A voice ordered coolly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A hand grabbed his braid and yanked his head backward, sparking pain into Keith’s neck. Two more hands grabbed his face, thick black leather around his jaw and cheeks. They pressed as before, attempting to pry his mouth open. Keith grit his teeth and snarled again. He could feel bruises forming under the pressing fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A uniformed galra was barely in view, blurry in Keith’s vision. He was the one gripping his face. He withdrew a hand and returned with something silver and long, Keith blinked hard to try to focus, but it pressed at his teeth before he could properly make it out. Metal ground at his clenched teeth, looking for purchase to jam in. Keith’s heart was hammering in his chest. He didn’t know what they were trying to do and he couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The metal rod forced Keith’s seal open, gloved fingers moved in to try and hook his jaw open and Keith </span>
  <em>
    <span>bit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he didn’t let out. Not for a few satisfying seconds as the galra shouted and cried out. The other set of hands hit him hard at his ear, shocking him into letting go of the fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bitten galra flashed his teeth as he nursed his hand, “The bitch </span>
  <em>
    <span>bit</span>
  </em>
  <span> me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They warned you he was feral,” The one holding him growled, adjusting his grip on Keith’s arm and his braid. “You can’t give ferals an opportunity.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The one in white returned to Keith’s blurry vision, “We will do a nasal sample instead. Hold his head tight so it doesn’t go too deep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s hair was pulled, his neck taut and his eyes cast up to the ceiling. Something brushed into his nostril, startling dry and uncomfortable. He cried out as it traveled </span>
  <em>
    <span>up</span>
  </em>
  <span> into his nose. His eyes watered and he could have sworn the white-cloaked galra was scratching his brain. It was removed swiftly, the relief of that matched with his head being released made him tremble.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His vision was slowly coming back to him, still rough around the edges. He made out a wall of screens and equipment, almost medical in appearance. He thought to ask where he was, who they were, what they thought they were going to do with him. But he knew better. He was supposed to be saving his strength and his sanity, not biting enemies and spitting threats.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The white-cloaked galra was looking at a holo readout, his draping white uniform was startlingly different from the typical Empire armour and garb Keith was used to seeing. The Empire was set on uniformity, on crushing the individual into something malleable they could make into their extended body of influence. Whoever this galra was, his ranking set him apart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That confirms it,” He announced, tapping a few keys on his pad. “This omega is not within the system at all. It’s been a long time since we inducted an omega born outside the Empire.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith felt sick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A second white-cloaked galra appeared, peering at one of the other holo read-outs, “Wait until his generic information is fully uploaded before you request a designation. If he isn’t breeding quality, we can request a colony designation.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Breeding quality</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“W-wait-” Keith’s voice was rough from disuse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Silence omega,” Keith’s braid was yanked to punctuate the order. Keith had </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> been referred to like that, as </span>
  <em>
    <span>“omega”,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and it slid sickly within him. Keith had been disciplined as a teen for starting fights with other kids who even mentioned his sexual designation. The word was derogatory in Keith’s mind, a rotten thing. And here, of course, that was all he was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An omega they were assessing the </span>
  <em>
    <span>breeding quality</span>
  </em>
  <span> of.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have a ping on his genetic heritage,” The female galra announced, “His sire is in our system, she was slated for the breeding program before radicalization.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Were they talking about Keith’s mother? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good,” The other white-cloaked galra answered, “So long as his dam has a decent percentage of galra, we should have a breeding omega on our hands.” He turned and addressed the two guards, “Start his induction, we will finish up with this once he’s ready.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Induction? Keith’s head was spinning. Everything was still faint and blurry in his sight, the sudden return to reality jarring and </span>
  <em>
    <span>painful.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But as he looked around the room and the galra guards dragged him away, his mind began to piece it all together. Slowly, almost mechanically, the realizations locking into each other and not letting go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had thought they were softening him for interrogation. But the collection of his data, the hyperfocus on his designation, </span>
  <em>
    <span>breeding quality. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It all added up to something much, much worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guards had lifted him by his bound upper arms and were wasting no time dragging him through the halls of this, ship? Station? Keith still wasn’t sure. His adrenaline was beginning to kick back in, the meditative calm he had earlier while hooded had seeped out of him. The reality of his situation was upon him all at once. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The room they had him in and the halls they dragged him through revealed that he was not at one of the Empire’s prisons. He wasn’t at one of the rumoured information centres, where they tortured prisoners and compiled intelligence. The signs, the readouts, it all pointed to the fact that this was the Breeding Program. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not only was he captured, but he was already being assessed as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>breeding omega.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His worst nightmare. He had expected interrogations, torture, imprisonment before he expected </span>
  <em>
    <span>this.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He had always thought that in the worst-case scenario he would be killed by the Empire before they would have a chance to </span>
  <em>
    <span>breed</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. He had just never allowed himself to entertain the thought, not at all. This couldn’t be happening to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s judgement was gone. His mind erupted in panic. He fought against the galra dragging him, thrashed in their grips and growled like an animal. He kicked out, twisting and making himself rigid, anything he could do to impede them. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>would not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be a submissive omega, he would not bend and bow to the backwards, disgusting slavery the Empire imposed on omegas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn brat,” One of the guards spat before jabbing Keith’s spine with his fist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let go of me!” Keith snarled without thinking. Of course they wouldn't let go. There was nothing Keith could say to convince them to act against the Empire's directives. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold tight, sweetheart,” The other sneered cruelly and Keith's stomach tied itself in knots. He trashed again, grunting and growling and unleashing everything his weak body could give.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A door opened to a starkly empty room. Little more than a cell. One of the walls was one-way glass, Keith recognized the unnerving glare in the dark reflection. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guards thrust him forward and released him. Keith met the solid ground with his face, shoulders jolting in pain as they pulled against his bonds to try and brace. His chin cracked, knocking up into his teeth, the taste of iron filled his mouth and coloured the ground. He squirmed, his body screeching from his neglected muscles, from the old bruises. He felt so weak, so small, but he couldn't stop himself from trying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Blade whore,” Keith's ears pinned back as the guards neared him on the ground. A boot met his ribs in a firm kick, lighting his chest up with pain. “Not so tough now, are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith cried out as his braid was pulled, neck craning back. Another grip at its base and Keith was lifted off the ground and spun around. Yellow galra eyes were glaring at him, hateful, spiteful, a flash of teeth before the guard punched Keith square in the face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That's for biting me, you slut,” The guard hissed between gritted teeth, punching again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, not so rough,” The other voice, barely audible above the rush of blood in Keith's ears and the throbbing pain all over. “If he turns out to be breeding quality, they'll punish us for damages.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guard holding Keith grunted and grabbed him by the chin instead, “You better hope you are, blade, cause if they ship you to one of the colonies I'm going to be first in line.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith breath shuddering, violent gasps between his agony, his fear and his disgust. He could tell from the guards' scents that they were both betas, but even if he wasn't in danger of being bred by them, he knew that didn't mean much. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enough,” The other guard warned as he stepped in close. “Just keep him still while I undress him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Keith managed around the grip on his face, but they didn't listen. Of course they didn't. The other guard produced a retracting blade, possibly the same one that had sliced his suit earlier and began cutting away Keith's armour. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Each piece was pried up from the suit, braces sliced, ruined as the guard tossed each piece aside. This armour had been custom forged for Keith, for his small frame, and he had needed to oversee the acquiring of the materials and then the creation. Now in torn pieces on the ground. He steeled himself, curling his toes, his tail between his legs as the guard got to work on his suit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could feel both sets of eyes on him as the blade cut down from his throat to his navel. Peeling away to reveal his underclothes, his filthy fur. The guard shredded the suit off with his hands, peeling it to ribbons that trailed from Keith's bound arms down to the floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You reek,” The guard holding him snarled into his flattened ear, his grip relenting on his face to instead trail down to his chest. Keith thrashed against the touch. The guard responded with a dark chuckle, holding his chest and pressed Keith backward against his body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith felt the guard's erection against his barely clothed ass and screeched. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don't move, omega,” The other guard warned, his blade now up at Keith's tight underlayer. He cut his binder free and moved down towards his groin. Keith had to close his eyes tight to escape this moment, to return to the dark fortress he had built inside his mind. Closing out the reality of his underwear being stripped away, the guard's clothed erection against him as the galra's fingers slid up to his nipples. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened his eyes at the sound of the door opening, footsteps across the floor, fearing the worst. The white-cloaked figures interrupted the guards in their prying and sick curiosity, moving aside to the clear authority that had walked in. Keith was only able to grit through his pain, his humiliation as he was held in place naked before these monsters. Holo cameras upon him, their recording lights scanning every nook and cranny of his exposed form as the white-cloaked figures recited data to each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His designation is in,” One said, pushing aside the holo camera and stepping up with a metal shackle in her hands. “Pending medical examinations and training, he will be put into the system for mate pairing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cold metal met Keith's neck and tightened. Too tight. Choking. It was sharp and needling him but the Program officers did not care to notice how Keith struggled to breathe. They couldn't hear his screaming as he banged his skinny shaking fists against the metal doors to his holding cell. He knew they were watching as the blockers wore off, as the madness of the cold small room crawled up into Keith's mind, pulling himself to pieces, wishing they would just come to him and hurt him if that meant he wouldn't be alone for another unmeasurable time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The little cell got smaller and smaller. Brushing Keith’s naked limbs, reaching to grip at his ankles and wrist and hold him open. It was cold and bright for hours, hot and dark for hours more. He couldn’t stop sweating, his head pounding from withdrawals. They wouldn’t come back until the blockers were out of his system. He was only an omega to them, they weren’t even interested in him as a Balde. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith curled in on himself. The room getting tighter around him. Boxing him in, knees over his head, tail twisted. He couldn’t breathe in this isolation. His fortress no longer offered comfort, it only gave him more echoing abyss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn't be alone anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira hit the stop key on his pad and the program stilled. He wasn’t sure exactly when his invasive memory went from a simple unwanted recollection to a spiral of unprocessed terror. Pulling himself out was like wrenching his drowning body from dark depths, thrust upon the sand gasping for air and trembling from the effort. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was drenched in sweat, shivering, his entire body quivering and weak as a dried up leaf. The images and memories and the stale </span>
  <em>
    <span>emotions</span>
  </em>
  <span> from them clung to Akira, demanding his attention, luring him back into the depths he had just surfaced from.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Any thought of the Program threatened to pull Akira under like this. His memories and experiences were buried so deep within him, rotting away in his core. His only chance for peace was to seal it off, to throw more debris over the roving, seething poison of those memories. Whatever Blade training he had that taught him to compartmentalize, to fortify in the face of terror, was twisted and bent within him. The fortress he had built up had become a safe, a prison where he dumped everything he couldn’t handle. It was no longer a safe haven. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira was now perched upon it, guarding the contents so they wouldn’t escape. The mist from the waves speckling him but never overtaking him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ran his hands over his face and breathed deeply. Those events where long past. He wasn’t at the Program anymore. He was in his alpha’s home and he had it about as good as an omega in his position could have it. Concessions upon concessions. But if he didn’t realign himself with that peace, he would be lost.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he needed to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>present.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Two little kits were looking up at him from where they laid on the ground with him. Akira had put down a soft blanket for them so he could take them out of bed, laid them out on their backs while he sat against the lounge and watched programs on his pad. Dhas was fussing, hiccuping with big wet eyes as Enzra made soft, comforting chirps to comfort him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh I’m okay sweetheart,” Akira’s voice was shaky as he knelt down to press kisses over both of them. “I’m okay. We’re all okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This settled the worried little crease on Dhas’ soft forehead, the little kit went back to chewing on his little mouse. Enzra calmed too, resuming her on-going task of attempting to catch her tail and chew on it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The program Akira had been watching remained static on the holo projection. A Program officer staring straight at him, mouth frozen mid-sentence, an overlay framed him listing off “omega health facts”. The officer’s eyes were cold, striking, his white uniform erriely spotless and nearly glowing in the display. Akira backed out of it, erasing the image from his memory as much as he could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His Program-approved pad had no real connection to any networks or communication, but the visual programs and informational articles changed every week or so. It was usually the same bank of footage reused over and over again with new voice-overs, occasionally there would be new talking heads, new imagery taken of distant planets to vary it up, but usually it was the same mindless content.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira thought the new additions were random, or that it was all tapped into a universal set of programs for all the omegas using these pads. But the longer he had it the more he realized the offerings were tailored to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The final weeks of his pregancy had his pad only offering him programs about birthing, preparations and complications and expectations. He wasn’t able to escape it. Ever since the kits were born the selection was a shifting mix, between care for young pups, the benefits of surrendering them to the Program, programs encouraging rekindling sexual activities with alphas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In fact, the programs about the Program’s pup center never went out of rotation and Akira was seeing more and more of the brain tickling “omega erotica” suggested to him as time went on. It was distressing at worse, annoying at best. What he wouldn’t do to just watch a space opera or some dry pulp serials. Omegas were, obviously, not encouraged to find entertainment or fun without the supervision of their alpha. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This week’s new offerings included one regarding omega transport, moving quarters and the protocols for the “safety” of omegas. Timely. Akira watched it and turned it off halfway through, absently rubbing Enzra’s soft tummy as she fell asleep and swiped through the limited selection. One caught Akira’s eye and immediately turned his stomach. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Dissolving Bonds”.</span>
  </em>
  <span> What did </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> mean? Akira had been told by Shiro and by all the programs pushed under his nose that bonds were </span>
  <em>
    <span>permanent. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They were binding, unlocking them together biologoically in a way that would cause distress and health issues if seperated for too long. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was it possible to dissolve a bond? Why would the Program have a informational on it? Why was this being pushed onto </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> pad?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He held his breath as he clicked </span>
  <em>
    <span>play.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The surface of a water planet came into view, a piece of looping footage Akira was familiar with from other programs, and scrolling text appeared over the peaceful water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The dissolving of a BOND between an ALPHA and OMEGA is a rare occurrence but one that is safe and healthy when overseen by the Program.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A BOND may be expired for a variety of reasons.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>ALPHAS and OMEGAS are both given safe and approved medications that will break down the bond. The process takes weeks and the OMEGA will not experience harmful side effects. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>BOND dissolution is uncommon but safe and done with the needs of the EMPIRE as priority. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Once the BOND is dissolved the OMEGA will return to the Program for reassignment. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira stared dumbly at the screen as the violet letters faded away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart was shuddered in his chest and he closed the holo projection completely. The explanation was minimal, on purpose, and Akira felt he could see between those lines. He had at one point wished Shiro dead, wished to be freed from the shackles that bound him to this alpha, but that time had long past. Shiro was his anchor. His distant, silent anchor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help but wonder if the “reassignment” was a cover for something. Shiro was never good at lying, but he was also terrible at being honest. Could it be that he was covering for having their bond dissolved?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was Shiro sending Akira back to the Program? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira stood up and paced the living room. Little anxious circles around where the kits laid, turning their heads as well as they could to watch him orbit. Fuck, he needed to shake this out of his body. He couldn’t function properly or keep his head about himself with this much fear and stress stewing in his bones. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stretched, letting his muscles tighten and loosen in turn, pushing until he was trembling with effort, then relenting. He did sit ups, push ups, he squatted and stretched out and considered, just for a moment, to run through some of his martial routines he had practiced daily in another life. But he stopped just short on that, his paranoia that he was watched never really went away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead he scooped his kits up into his arms, repeating the motion as if they were weights, Enzra trilling delight at the sensation. Like a game, of course. Akira pulled them up into kisses before bending them to the ground and then back into kisses. Within a few moments they were both squeaking with giggles and joy. That warmed Akira, brought him back. He just needed to be strong enough for them, nothing else mattered as much as they did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira hefted the two kits into his burning arms and walked laps through the quarters. As they grew and had more time where they were awake and looking curiously at the small world around them, Akira had started to give them “tours”. He would walk them along every wall, nice and slow, counting his steps. He would hold them near the wall screen, the control panels, the cupboard handles, the furniture, the massive security door and watch as their wide eyes took in every detail. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would take them to the kitchen. The tiny, utilitarian space that was rarely ever used by him or Shiro. It had been expected of Akira to learn to cook so he would prepare meals for his alpha, but he had refused. He had no skill for it and no interest to learn. Shiro never pushed for it, hell he didn’t even ask after he had softened up. Now the kitchen was only there to house pre-made meals for Akira and for show-and-tell with the kits.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira opened the steel drawers and cabinets one by one, letting the kits gaze at the collection of spotless cooking supplies, the utensils, the machinery still in his safety packaging. Enzra always got mesmerzed by the shine and glint of the metals, gurgling and reaching with uncorrindated little paws, </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They would round off the tour with the bathroom, stepping into the shower, into the dormant steam room, the racks of soft towels Akira would let Dhas run his timid paws over. And then, finally, the large mirror.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was hard for Akira to look at his reflection. He barely recongized the galra that stared back at him. This was the same mirror Shiro had him look into as he cut his braid. The same one that Akira had pressed close to when he saw his tongue piercing for the first time. Those reflections were no longer there in the polished glass, all that was there now was an exhausted and despondent omega holding his two children.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira felt more and more like he was living in a dream. Foggy and nonsensical, but one that required him to live by its laws for as long as he was in it. His reflection was real, all hard lines and striking eyes, none of the blurred and insubstainal essence he felt inside. His eyes were cold, his fur soft but less vivid than it once had been. His hair was slowly growing out, licking off his neck and teasing his shoulders. He could tie it back, kind of. It was something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kits stared at the mirror too, their wide eyes unsure of what to focus on, then wrinkling their little noses and cooing as their expressions changed in the glass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s you,” Akira smiled but snapped his mouth shut when he saw the </span>
  <em>
    <span>glint</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the Empire crest on his tongue. He was so accustomed to its place in his mouth he rarely thought of it until he saw it. But it was a dull shock, one that fell away easily when he was watching his young drool in the reflection. “Look at how cute you two are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kits were both down and sound asleep when Shiro finally returned from his duties, a solid hour later than usual.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are leaving tomorrow,” The alpha announced before Akira could even greet him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Leaving?” Akira’s ears twitched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For the reassignment,” Shiro wouldn’t meet Akira’s eyes. He pulled the uniform off faster than usual, chucking it aside as if it had insulted him. Akira scented the air around him, smelling stress and hostility from his alpha. “There will be a security detail to escort us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira had watched the program on transport, “Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro didn’t turn to him, his ears were static and Akira knew he repressed their natural movement unless he let his guard down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ah, the old standby. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira stood in the living room, hands clasped in front of him as Shiro disappeared into the bathroom as he usually did upon his return. Akira waited, almost dutiful, until his alpha emerged smelling fresh and with… a scent mask on?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro,” Akira couldn’t hold back the waver in his voice. “Please tell me what’s going on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro stared at the cradle on the other side of their home, expression unreadable, “My reassignment got moved up, it’s just happening sooner than I planned for.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro wasn’t lying about that at least, but the vague explanation did nothing to settle Akira.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro, I’m-” </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he wanted to say. Scared of whatever Shiro was hiding from him. Scared that Shiro was actually getting ready to </span>
  <em>
    <span>dissolve their bond.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The program he had watched had been so vague, skimping on any useful information that it only served to scare him senseless when he thought about it all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro sighed, no doubt scenting the overwhelming anxiety rolling off of Akira. He stepped close, his bulking body towering over Akira as he held him gently by his shoulders, thumbs stroking fondly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need you to trust me Akira,” he whispered, so quiet that Akira’s ears perked to hear. “No matter what happens. Trust me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira’s throat tightened. His alpha was warm and strong, </span>
  <em>
    <span>soft</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he wanted to be. He felt weak in the presence of him, so fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>needy</span>
  </em>
  <span> and helpless and dependant. And yet he couldn’t reconcile that with how his heart tightened at the thought of losing him in any way. It was stupid. But it was the reality Akira was living in, the twisted and deranged dream that had made his captor his only source of love and light before the kits arrived.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And damnit, he needed to trust him. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> trust him. For his own sake, for the sake of their kits. His eyes burned and he nodded to Shiro, skin prickling with need. The need to be taken care of, to be held and comforted and grounded in this world they shared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I trust you,” Akira managed before pressing his body against his alpha. Letting every doubt and fear leak from his eyes and shake out from his shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro wasn’t telling him the whole truth, but what did he have if he didn’t have his mate?</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>PTSD/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks/Mental Health  -&gt; The first half of the chapter is an extended flashback scene of Keith/Akira being taken to the Program for the first time. At a certain point the memory spirals into a warped panic that he pulls himself out of. Afterwards he spends the rest of the chapter trying to ground himself despite mounting anxiety, dissociation and depression. </p><p>Imprisonment/Non-Consensual Bondage/Sensory Deprivation  -&gt; The first half of the chapter has Keith in Empire/Program custody, his wrists bound behind him for extended periods as well as a sensory deprivation hood. For a while Keith is unable to sense anything and the fic is from that POV. He is transported around, pushed and beaten up by guards, brought to a holding cell where he is eventually left alone in his flashback.</p><p>Rape Mention -&gt; Brief mention that Keith feared that his capture would result in a group rape, no further mention. Later a guard implies that if Keith is sent to the breeding colonies that he would take the opportunity to use him. Please check following warning for more.</p><p>Non-Consensual Sexual Touching/Forced Nudity -&gt; Keith’s wrists are bound behind his back when the Program guards remove his clothing. Its a process of cutting away his armor and ripping his bodysuit, binder and underwear off. During this time one of the guards pressed his body and clothed erection against Keith, his hands roam a bit over his chest and there is a suggestion of reaching for nipples before it ends. Also - there is a scene directly after where the holo cameras take image scans of Akira’s naked body.</p><p>Abuse of Authority/Violence/Blood -&gt; The Program and its guards carry out all of the above to Keith, dehumanizing him by talking as if he isnt there, moving him by his bound arms, pulling his hair, forcing his mouth open. Keith also bites one of them. In a following scene Keith is thrown to the ground resulting in bleeding from the face, he is kicked around and punched before they undress him for further exams.</p><p>Degoratory Language -&gt; The program guards use the terms “omega”, “brat”, “whore”, “sweetheart” as a way to demean Keith.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Akira and the kits are moved into transport.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The story is really starting now! Chapters are going up a week early on another site, check out my twitter at @rifatrope for details!</p><p>Im really excited to get you guys into the meat of this story!! </p><p>Chapter 3 CW and Tags</p><p>CW:<br/>Sensory deprivation, bondage, mentions of past forced nudity, light sub-space, authority, weaponry, anxiety, breastfeeding, blood, minor death</p><p>Tags:<br/>Sensory deprivation, bondage suit, intimacy, affection, anxiety, doubt, hoods, collars, restraints, bondage, space travel, minor death</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The black pressure suit laid flat and limp across the bed. Limbs splayed, metal buckles, connectors and locks shining reflections from the star display overhead. Akira held Enzra tighter to his chest, his tail wrapped around them both protectively. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s going to be okay,” Shiro said from the lounge. He was in his Admiral uniform, cradling Dhas in one of his large arms as the little kit slept. “We have a long trip so once we are in the transport you’ll be unhooded and able to get out of the suit to take care of the pups. It's only temporary.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira knew. He had watched the program on his pad about transporting omegas and kits. The protocol was strict, the supervision and security tight. Of course the Program said it was for the protection of omegas and kits. Only half true as far as Akira was concerned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are they going to sedate me?” Akira asked, bouncing Enzra gently to lull her into sleep. It would be easier for everyone if they were both napping when it was time to go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They can’t, you’re nursing,” Shiro’s nose twitched in an almost-snarl. “But they- You should make sure to be cooperative so they stick to that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was controlling his speech. It was hard to tell if it was a holdover from his unquestioning loyalty to the Empire or something else. Akira didn’t pursue that train of thought, he just had to trust Shiro. He had to appreciate the changes Shiro had pushed through for himself, even if it felt like too little too late. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were both just surviving. Akira had to focus on that. Surviving. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But still, the nagging fears of bond dissolution and the Program forcing a surrender of the kits did not go away. Akira had to stop himself from wondering if Shiro was intending any of that, looking at his mate lovingly cradle and gaze on one of their brood told him it couldn’t be true. Shiro loved him. Shiro loved the kits. They only had each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m-” Akira started, a thousand thoughts gathered up to be spoken into reality first. “Scared. The last time I was transported it was… bad. You can’t sense anything in the suit, Shiro, I won't be able to smell you or the pups. I won’t know if anything bad happens.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro met Akira’s eyes. His jaw was set, his own eyes shining with intensity. He made a sound before standing and settling Dhas into the crib. He bent over the suit where it was laid out, ran a hand over it thoughtfully, “You can feel through it, can’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira thought back to when he was first brought here. Bound and pressurized and handled by both the Program guards and by his new alpha. “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll keep my hand on you,” Shiro said quietly. He stood tall next to Akira, one of his hands brushing the omega’s lower back in a gentle swirl. “So you know I’m beside you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira couldn’t look at him. He could only stare at the slumbering face of Enzra in his arms, soaking up the tender affection and protection his alpha was offering. “And the pups?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was quiet for a moment, “They are going to be in a transport pod-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Akira cut him off, “I know how they will be transported, but how will I know they are still with us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was silent, but his scent changed. The air of protection and tenderness slowly shifted to something closer to restrained anger. His hand at Akira’s back turned to a grip, pulling him in for a deep embrace with their kit between them. Shiro covered Akira, huffing in his hair to calm himself down as he offered his own scent to Akira. It was nice. Shiro was warm, safe, and Akira let himself feel small in his arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t let them take the pups or you out of my sight,” Shiro whispered against Akira, “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>promise</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. Please trust me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira had to. He had to. What choice did he have?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira pulled away after a moment, lulled by Shiro’s protective scent. He settled Enzra’s warm sleeping body down next to her brother and ran an affectionate hand down both of them. The little ones didn’t know their world was going to change today, it would be the first time either of them would leave this tiny apartment. Akira’s throat choked up at the thought and he had to push it all away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was gathering up the pressure suit from the bedspread and it looked so harmless in his large hands. Hanging hollow and limp as the hardware on it clinked gently against each other. There was no point in putting it off, it was better to have the preparations done before the Program arrived.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I keep this on?” Akira asked as he took the suit from Shiro. He was wearing a loose tunic that fastened around his neck under his dainty collar, a piece the Program allowed them to order due to him being a “nursing omega”, a small pair of what Akira hesitant to call shorts, and thigh-high leg guards that fastened over his feet by a delicate tie around his large toe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don't see why not,” Shiro answered, “Do you need help with this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, honestly I havent put this on myself before,” Akira admitted, looking for the closures and holding it out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro took hold of it so he could step in and Akira’s mind wandered the moment his bare feet brushed the material of the suit. The Program had never offered Akira clothing, not until the pressure suit. Every moment before was spent in stark nudity and bondage. Endless Program guards and officers and medical staff were audience to everything that had once been sacred and private. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pressure suit only came when it was time to take him to his appointed Alpha and become a breeder. Akira had compressed the memory so thoroughly that he could barely recall the emotions he felt then. He only remembered the biting restraints, the grip on his ankles as the suit was slowly stretched over him like a snake swallowing its prey.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The material was cool to the touch, almost silky as Shiro helped him pull it up from his toes to his thighs. They puzzled over the intricate closures and pressure control at the waist, matching connectors and interlocking the mechanisms that would initiate the pressure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh wait,” Akira touched Shiro’s hand as the alpha fussed with the closures. “My tail.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guards at the Program had snatched his tail in their punishing grips and twisted it forcibly around Akira’s leg. The memory burned and Akira dropped it, trembling as Shiro carefully peeled the material away from his legs and gently, oh so gently, guided his tail to a comfortable position on the inside of his right leg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Program says that the suit is calming for omegas,” Shiro said, his eyes narrowed as they flicked to Akira. The material dragged back over Akira’s bare legs. “Is that true?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Akira answered honestly. “The pressure makes you, I don’t know, docile? You can’t fight against it without it tightening up more. It forces you to relax but it doesn’t stop your thoughts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s brow furrowed thoughtfully as he pulled the suit over Akira’s waist. They secured it easier the second time and Akira was pulling the sleeves up over his arms within moments. The pressure wasn’t initiated yet but even without it the suit was snug, hugging every joint and curve. They had to stuff Akira’s tunic inside, smoothing out the bunched fabric so it wouldn’t hurt once it was closed up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to wait before I seal it?” Shiro brushed Akira’s hair from his eyes and held his cheek. His hand was warm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I want to be used to it before anyone comes,” Akira couldn’t help but nuzzle against that hand. That tenderness that they had worked so hard to have between each other. He wanted this to be how his life as an enslaved omega continued, no more punishments, no more cruelty, from Shiro or anyone else. And he had to trust Shiro. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro pulled the zip from Akira’s waist up over his chest, compressing his breasts, and then all the way up to his throat. There was no bulky standard-issue collar to connect it to, just the thin metal ring that took its place, so the suit sat awkwardly at his neck with connectors hanging like decoration. Without the pressure on, the suit was cold and Akira realized he hadn’t been this covered up since the last time he wore it. It wasn’t unlike his old Blade suit covering every inch of skin under his chin, but it offered no protection, not really.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pressure was initiated and Akira tensed immediately. The materials hardened, hot suddenly and </span>
  <em>
    <span>heavy.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His fingers and toes felt it first, the material </span>
  <em>
    <span>too tight</span>
  </em>
  <span> and heavy as if it might crush him, before regulating back fraction by fraction until it balanced. The sensation bloomed on his arms and legs, gripping him tightly until it adjusted. His torso was squeezed, weight that reminded him distantly of the wrestling training he had done. As if one of the larger galra had him pinned with their entire body, pressing him into the mat as he stubbornly refused to submit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You okay, baby?” Shiro was looking down at him, the stars blurry around his head. When had Akira fallen back on the bed? He wanted to lift his arms to push Shiro off of him, to release the weight that pressed him deeper and deeper into submission, but he couldn’t lift them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I forgot-” Akira managed, his thoughts were sideways and sliding away as he gathered them up. “How </span>
  <em>
    <span>intense</span>
  </em>
  <span> this feels.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro scooped him up in his arms as if he weighed nothing and sat with Akira limp against him. This was nice, at least, it was better pressed against his alpha than it was flat on his back feeling as if the gravity in the ship was trying to murder him. Shiro smelled heavenly, affection and care and protective instincts rolling off him in waves. Akira nestled his nose close to him, closing his eyes as his body adjusted to the pressure of the suit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It started to feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>good.</span>
  </em>
  <span> As if he were pressed into a tight embrace, grounded and centred in place, something he recognized as instinct sparking like flint. Mated and off his blockers, he recognized the signals his body gave, omegas were physiologically predisposed to bend and submit from certain stimuli. Last time he had been in the suit he was still fresh off his blockers, hyped up on hormones, and unbonded. It felt different like this, and he found himself wanting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro,” He cooed, his voice soft and trembling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, baby?” Shiro asked, his eyes sparkling. He looked so handsome. Akira wanted to be kissed, to be held tighter, to have his alpha shower him in affection and- “Akira?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira blinked. The Program was coming, they were going to transport him and the kits. He gripped onto the reality, his fingers clawing into Shiro’s uniform weakly through the pressure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We are going to be okay, aren’t we?” Akira was trembling at his core, quivering under the suit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Shiro pressed a kiss to his forehead, “Trust me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro held him close until the security door chimed. He pressed another long kiss to Akira’s face and settled him upright against the headboard before unlocking the door and letting the Program into their home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Guards entered in full uniform, stun batons and laser rifles strapped to them as if they were going to war. Two, four- </span>
  <em>
    <span>six</span>
  </em>
  <span> entered their small quarters and stood at attention. Shiro’s scent soured as he stood between the squadron and the bedroom where Akira and the kits laid vulnerable. Akira was glad he had the suit put on before they got here, his heart was racing despite the mollifying pressure on his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Vrepit sa,” The head of the group announced, “Admiral Shirogane, are you prepared for transport protocol?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Vrepit Sa,” Shiro echoed, the sound of those two words from him hit like a punch in the gut, every time. “My omega needs to be hooded but everything is ready.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guards set to work, two of them gathered up the few crates they packed their scarce belongings into and took them out, two others replaced them flanking what Akira recognized as the transport pod for the kits. It was a floating, bullet-shaped container of shining metals and blinking lights. The video on Akira’s pad had gone into detail about them, the inside was plush, temperature, atmosphere and air controlled to be safe and calming for kits. The pod itself had its own gravity source, the metal was the same grade as the hulls of battleships, it was virtually the safest place in the universe for a kit to lay their head.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Akira was inclined to believe that propaganda. If he had learned anything living under the rule of the Empire, it was that high-content galra kits were the most valuable resource they had. They would never risk their safety, the security and surveillance and efforts around both Akira and Shiro were for their sake only. The Empire valued breeding and procreation under their control. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even so, Akira couldn’t help but straighten against the pressure suit as the floating pod hovered in the direction of his sleeping babies, guards armed on either side. Every other time the Program had sent their men after Akira got pregnant there had been at least one omega present, but there were none today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t touch them!” Akira snarled, he sat forward on his hands, hunched and growling on the bed. His arms shook at the effort, his heart thudding in his folded ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro filled his vision, stepping between Akira and the guards, “Back it up,” He snarled the order to the guards, “I’ll put the pups in myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guards stood down in the face of the high ranking alpha, his bared teeth and his fierce scent. They readied the transport pod, tapping the display and unsealing the dome that covered it. It slid back to reveal the large, padded and soft cradle within. Akira didn’t need to imagine his kits inside, Shiro had already scooped the sleeping kits into his arms and was stepping up to the floating metal pod. Akira was helpless as he watched Shiro carefully, gently, lay both of their children into the purple bedding within it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was only in this moment that Akira realized that this is how they would have surrendered them to the Program. This was the device, this was the protocol, was it not? Terror filled Akira’s chest, thundering under the unrelenting pressure, tears stinging as they ran down his cheeks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had to trust Shiro. He had to trust his </span>
  <em>
    <span>mate.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait to seal it, if you can,” Shiro ordered. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ordering</span>
  </em>
  <span> these guards around. This wasn’t like those medical exams where the guards intimidated and pushed Shiro further and further away. Why was this different? A quick glance to the leader of the group revealed that it wasn’t, his stance was aggressive, twitching to bat Shiro back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Admiral,” He said, his face hidden behind the visor of his helmet. “With all due respect, this is a Program operation. You are required to follow our protocol.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s hands gripped the edge of the transport pod, “Of course. You read my omega’s file, correct? Then you know he is a rescue, high-risk, he may be tame now but reducing stress will make this go easier for all of us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira set his jaw and let the words slide over him. He had to trust. Shiro was the only galra in the room who had his best intentions in mind. Program guards or not, Akira was intimately aware of the cruelty they were permitted to get away with. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hood your omega then, Admiral,” The leader had his hand on his electric baton. Akira never forgot the sting those delivered. “The transport ship is ready.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This was happening.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akira didn’t know why it didn’t seem real until now, only that the reality of </span>
  <em>
    <span>leaving</span>
  </em>
  <span> this little apartment was overwhelming and terrifying. He had been imprisoned here for at least a year, by his foggy estimation. His world had become so small. He didn’t know what to expect when he stepped out, what new landscape he and his kits would inhabit. Trusting that he, the kits and Shiro would still be together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro had the hood in his hands as he neared, eyes solemn, “Ready?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both knew it didn’t matter if he was or not. The armed guards were waiting and these seconds between them were a concession given to them. So Akira nodded, ears pinned back as Shiro held his face in his warm hand. The alpha leaned in and pressed a kiss to Akira’s lips, soft and chaste. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be by your side, Akira,” Shiro’s hand shifted down to Akira’s back, he swirled two fingers in a firm circle between his shoulder blades. Akira could just feel it under the muting pressure of the suit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last time Akira had been in the hood he had been gagged, the Program guards tangled his long braid up in a fist at the back of his neck. His head viced in place by their hands as the hood was dragged over him and secured in its two pieces. The memory came back all at once, compounded and sharp. Akira pressed it down, looking up into Shiro’s eyes to ground himself in his present reality before the first segment of the hood was lifted to his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The isolation hood was made of two distinct segments. The first was a mask, black metal and leather fitted over his face. Shiro led it over Akira’s eyes gently, the padding pressing and causing sparks of white to dance in Akira’s closed eyes. It fitted over his nose, plugging up his nostrils, then the muzzle. Without the gag, this hood had just enough give that Akira could relax his jaw. Filtered air hissed in, minimal and distinctly stale. Akira trembled, his senses going black. Shiro’s flesh hand was over his masked face, his fingertips carefully holding at his jaw, his ears, his hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The straps were secured behind his neck and head one at a time. Tightening and securing the mask in place. His ears twitched, listening to the ambience before it would all go away. He could hear Shiro breathing, the hum of the ship’s distant engines, the beeping and clicking of the guard’s code radios, the distinct hiss of the sliding dome on the transport pod closing his kits in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira twitched and pulled against Shiro’s hands as he secured the final closure. His hands up, heavy under the suit’s gravity, but clawing for Shiro. Fear was leaking from him into his limbs and he couldn’t hold it back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro cooed gently, “It’s okay baby, I’m right here, I’m not leaving you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira felt Shiro’s large hand at his back again, the same circle rubbed between his shoulders and he relaxed. The second segment of the hood was pressed over his masked face, he could feel the pull of it, and carefully slipped over the rest of his head. The sounds muted as his ears pinned and were pressed flat into his hair. There was nothing for Akira to do but surrender to it. Not that he had intended on fighting, not really.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Submission had its own freedom. That was something Akira had learned over the past year. Giving in, relenting, submitting and learning to bend so you didn’t break. The Blade had trained him to preserve his strength, to hold onto himself when backed into a corner. They had never taught him the safety that surrender offered. He let go into the darkness, the silence. Shiro was with him. He trusted Shiro. He had to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira sat in that darkness, carefully building up an image of what he had left behind so he could imagine it around him. Shiro’s hands finished with the locking closures at the back of his head. The surface of the bed shifted, Shiro lifting up from it, and Akira waited. A hand touched his shoulder softly a moment later, Shiro, and then something smooth at his neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A collar? That was all it could be. A smooth soft length was stretched over his neck and over his delicate metal collar. It was wide, keeping his chin up, and the straps from the suit were fitted into it. Akira shivered under the pressure. It was for the control rods, wasn’t it? His new collar did not have the connectors necessary for them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hands ran down his arms slowly and deliberately. Shiro. It had to be. Then gently guided his wrists behind him. Akira’s throat tightened as he let himself be restrained. Wrists locked to connectors at the small of his back, opening up his chest and pulling his shoulders. Regardless of the progress they had made and the kits he had delivered to the Empire, he was still a prisoner. No amount of good behavior or trust allowed omegas any real freedom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, that wasn’t useful to think about. Not now. Akira exhaled as deeply as he could, his breath warm against him. A circle between his shoulders again. Yes, right, Shiro was here. A grip on his upper arms and he was guided off the bed, his covered feet finding ground under him and standing tall against the pull on his arms. He counted the steps as he was led forward slowly. One, two, three- he was on the threshold of the living space now, where the guards were standing ready. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s grip didn’t relent when the control rods were attached to the temporary collar. Akira felt the weight of them on his neck, tethered from three points. They adjusted, pushing and pulling in turn as if to test the connection between them and Akira. Akira wavered under their force, trembling shivers racing through him. The grip on his arm relenting, hesitantly. And Akira was alone in the center of the pushing and pulling metal rods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They urged him like a wild animal. One step, two, three- he forced himself to picture Shiro walking alongside him. The transport pod trailing along. Four, five, six, </span>
  <em>
    <span>seven-</span>
  </em>
  <span> they must be at the security door now, that was why they paused. They would need to open up the door, obviously, but Akira imagined they would need to coordinate with the team outside of the apartment. No way this transport would happen with only the team that entered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A few minutes passed and Akira was urged forward again. Three more steps in the same direction and he knew was outside of their quarters. He had never seen what the rest of the warship looked like, had no basis of the floor plan or the size. This could be a simple corridor, but Shiro was an admiral, so his quarters might also be connected to a large thoroughfare. His mind's eye struggled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They guided him into a turn, ninety degrees to his left, and urged him forward. He stepped carefully, slowly, both under the pressure of the suit and the barely contained fear working against him. The fact that they allowed him his own pace was a mercy. He lost count of his steps, having no internal map to connect each step to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A turn forty-five degrees to the right. Akira wondered if they cleared out the ship’s corridors for omega transportation. They must with how controlled and locked down their kept omegas. Breeding omegas were in short supply, slowly going extinct, and they wouldn’t want to risk a rogue alpha getting any ideas. Half of the function of the pressure suit and isolation hood was to block an omega’s scent. And they were also transporting the kits, who were more valuable than Akira. Protections must be in place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even so, it was hard to not wonder if they weren’t alone. What if the large war ship’s halls were full of Empire galra, watching as a hooded and bound omega trembled by with security detail. Paraded in front of wanting alphas without assigned mates. Humiliating not only Akira in his imprisonment but those who had no claim to a proper omega. Akira was shaking. His mind reeling at the imagined eyes upon him. Shuffling through his memories of the Program, medical officers holding him open for image scans, to the messages he saw on Shiro’s pad, sexualizing him and his children as if they were no more than objects.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Doubt fogged up in Akira’s mind, the fortress within shaking and coming loose. What if he was alone. What if he was going back to the Program, what if the kits were already surrendered to be raised by unfamiliar omegas deep within the Empire’s machine? What if Shiro was being restrained and drugged, like all those medical exams when he had acted out to protect Akira? What if he was gone. What if Akira was </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The control rods stopped, holding Akira to stand in place abruptly. He was trembling still, weak as the pressure suit squeezed against his tensed muscles. His cheeks were wet. And then, a touch at his back. Between his shoulder blades. A slow, deliberate circle. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shiro.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was still with him. He was safe so long as Shiro was here. Their kits would be alongside. Their little unlikely family was still together. Alright. He could do this. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They</span>
  </em>
  <span> could do this. It was just a transport. They were only going to a transport ship. Akira would get to remove the hood and suit once secured onboard. This was temporary. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With Akira’s reality put back in place, he was able to shove the fears and terrors back down into the safe prison within. Nothing else mattered in this moment but the fact that Shiro and the kits were beside him. He could survive this, no problem, he had come this far already.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s hand slipped away and the procession continued. Akira couldn’t know if they stopped because he was showing stress signals or if they were waiting on a security door, but it was some time before he was held to a stop again. Must be security clearances, he vaguely remembered starting and stopping a lot when he was first brought to Shiro.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That time he had remained hooded the entire time. He had spent what felt like hours on a smaller transport ship, something he only knew based on the fact they laid him down on his side for the duration. He had felt the vibrations and movement of the ship through the ground he had been laid on. He wondered if the transport they were being taken to now was another small transport ship or something larger. The Empire’s fleet was enormous and contained variation in the hundreds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Where were they headed to? Shiro had simply said it was a station, not where it was situated. The Empire had stations set in every solar system they occupied, monitoring the planets and colonies in the area, overseeing trade and transports and were hubs of Empire power. Shiro said their living conditions would be different, but how much of a difference would it really make? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A memory floated up from Akira’s depths,</span>
  <em>
    <span> I cannot take back anything that I’ve done to you, but I promise you, I will die before I allow anything to come between us or the pups. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Shiro had said that. Akira had been unsure of what to do with the memory as Shiro became more and more distant over the following weeks. Even then Akira knew it wasn't a promise Shiro had the power to keep, it was dangerous to promise it, even more so to try and act on it. But Shiro was doing this for them, he must know more than Akira did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The texture under Akira’s feet changed. The smooth flooring of the warship’s halls were replaced with the gritty treads typical of hangar bays and dry docks. They must be close. Akira tried to imagine how big the hangars on an Empire warship must be, knowing they housed enough attack cruisers to crush a typical fleet. The warship probably had multiple hangars, he had never gotten the opportunity to see the blueprints or schematics of one. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A long dormant rush brushed against Akira, he always loved ships, everything about them. Spacecrafts and travel and piloting had always been his passion, one that he had once fought and trained hard for the privilege to fly. Long gone now. He wished he could have seen the interior of the warship, it wasn’t like he could take any intel back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He let those thoughts slip away before they turned to disappointment and grief. Focus on the present. They were stopped again, Akira pinned between the metal rods at his neck, Shiro’s hand twirling firm circles at his back. Alright. Nearly there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next time he was urged forward it was at an upward angle. A slope, signaled by the rod that pulled on him, and his feet carefully navigated the ramp under him blindly. This must be the transport ship now. He slid his feet up, stumbling if he took a step without seeing the incline, shuffling awkwardly along as the rods pushed and pulled him up. The ramp ended and he was tugged, his toes carefully edging at the lip of the ramp and onto the smooth flat ground within the ship.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nearly there. The program on his pad had said that omegas were given “relaxation supplements” when in transport, which Akira vaguely remembered from his previous transportation. But Shiro had told him that since he was nursing, they couldn’t do that. Since there were no Program omegas with them, Akira would also need to be unbound to care for the pups during the trip, wouldn’t he? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He mulled over this as he was carefully guided through the ship. He suspected the transport was a small one, judging but the narrow angle of the rods at his neck and the slow deliberate pace they pressed on him. Akira stumbled on the lips of air lock doors more than once before the pushing and pulling stopped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rod secured at the front of his throat was unlatched and then replaced with what felt like a length of chain. Akira didn’t like that. But he forced himself to consider that restraints would be used so long as the guards were present with him. He had been a rebel, and the Program guards did not like to take chances with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two other rods disconnected. The chain was pulled forward and Akira followed it. He imagined it was to secure him to one side of the room while the guards moved out. After a moment the chain dropped, and then a hand at his back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A slow circle between his shoulders. The tension in Akira’s body cut and he felt as if he would collapse. The hand moved and he felt two at the connectors behind his back, his hands were released and he let them fall heavy at his sides. The hands steadied him at his hips and he recognized Shiro in the way he enveloped him, the gentle grip. Relief poured through Akira’s body and he would have wavered and fallen if not held safely in place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hands guided him carefully, side steps until he was urged to sit. Something soft under him, a cot he guessed, and only then did he feel the chain unlatched from his neck and the hands move to the hood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pressure slowly released as the straps and locks at the back of his head were undone one by one. The softest murmurs of sound returning as Shiro eased the hood off his head. Akira’s ears perked at once to the caphophy that greeted them. Air circulators, pressure and gravity monitors, the hum of an engine in standby in close proximity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I got you, Akira,” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shiro’s voice.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I’m here, the pups are here, give me a second to get the rest of this hood off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira’s eyes burned within the hood, his cheeks wet again. Shiro was working at the straps, the mask sagging and relenting their pressure in stages with each release. He smelled Shiro before he saw him, calm, strong, protective. Easy and affectionate. Akira couldn’t think of the words to explain how relieved he felt at hearing and smelling his alpha. He had spent so long worrying that this would all go sideways and fall away from him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yet here Shiro was. The mask pulled away and Akira was blinking against the light with his alpha already wrapping around him, giving him his scent to breath in, giving him warmth and security. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro,” Akira said. The only word that came to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro pulled away after a moment and let Akira take in his new surroundings. They were in what Akira assumed to be the primary suite on the transport. It was small, smaller than the quarters Akira had been in for a year, but luxurious compared to the bunks afforded crew on small ships like this. If there even was a crew. Four metal-clad walls, a soft double cot under him, a lavatory tucked within the wall, and, Akira sighed relief, the transport pod.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are they okay?” Akira asked, he stood on uneasy feet and stumbled towards the floating pod. His hands slid over the smooth dome, opaque purple obscuring the kits from view.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah they should be fine,” Shiro stepped over and unlocked the control panel. “Here, I got a manual on these, I’ll show you how to use it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The control panel displayed information on the conditions inside the pod and would alert if the kits woke up or experienced any unrest. The controls allowed them to open the dome, which was not recommended during transport flights unless they were awake, or to adjust the dome covering so it would let them see inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Enzra and Dhas were both sound asleep inside and the last of Akira’s fears were put to rest. He was here, unbound, Shiro was here and the kits were safe and by their side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What happens now?” Akira asked as he sunk back on the cot. The pressure suit made him feel exhausted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can get out of the pressure suit whenever you want,” Shiro explained, leaning over Akira to unlock the closures so that he could wriggle out of it himself. “It's going to be a couple of days before we reach the station, I’ll be piloting us. Protocol required the room to be locked so you and the kits are secured safely, you can tell when the lock is activated by the display up there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro pointed to a simple analog display above the metal air lock door behind him, despite it being fairly obvious, “I’ll be by to check on you and keep you fed. Do you want the displays up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira turned to look at the stark metal walls around him, noticed the seams of where the ship displays were sealed, “Can I?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Shiro’s scent was slowly trailing into a different expression, by degrees he went from calm and collected to anxious. An anxiety that Akira had not smelled on him before, deep beneath the projected air he was putting on. “I have to put it on a delay timer, these transport cruisers are programmed to not display while in the hangar. When they do come on, you should be able to see the warship.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira watched Shiro tap clearances into a small pad for the room, noticed how his teeth clenched when he went quiet, “What’s the matter?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing’s the matter,” Shiro replied firmly. Akira could scent the lie. “It's just a big day, transporting you and the pups isn’t easy or typical. I didn’t like seeing you hooded and dragged around like that, I just- I have to keep it together. I need to pilot this cruiser for a couple days, you understand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Did he say that because of Akira’s past? No, that couldn’t be it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have a co-pilot?” Akira asked, fumbling the closures on the pressure suit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro stepped in and helped, unhooking the more complicated closures, his voice low “There are three guards on the ship.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira looked up at Shiro, ears perked. Shiro’s eyes were fixed on the connectors on the suit. That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> an answer to Akira’s question, although it should have been. Shiro was </span>
  <em>
    <span>informing him.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Everything about this was off, conspiratorial in a way Akira couldn’t ignore. Shiro had been distant and withholding details about anything for weeks, dropping the closeness and disgust of the Empire almost as quickly as he had voiced it all those weeks ago.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something was happening here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Akira answered. “Is there an escort?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was fully unhooking and unzipping Akira’s suit, more than he needed to, “For a duration, the system we are in is technically disputed so it's deemed hostile space. Once we are in controlled systems, we will be on our own.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>On our own</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was Akira reading too much into this? Shiro wasn’t… </span>
  <em>
    <span>planning</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything was he? No, he couldn’t be, Akira was being paranoid. His old Blade training was just coming up to the surface under the circumstances. Shiro wouldn’t risk it, couldn’t. What could he do? No, it wasn’t possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira dropped it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Shiro stood after he unlocked the last of the closures. He leaned down to Akira’s level, brushing his hair from his face and cradling it in his huge hand. “Get some rest if you can, I’ll see you later.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro pressed in for a kiss and Akira melted into it. He couldn’t help it, Shiro kissed him </span>
  <em>
    <span>deeply.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Almost desperate. Almost pleadingly. Pressing love and affection so firmly that Akira wondered what it meant. He kissed back, returning the passion. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I trust you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he pressed back to him, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I trust you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro left through the airlock door, the brief second it was open Akira could see the Program guards standing outside waiting for him. Three of them, like Shiro said. The door sealed up and the analog display shone red, showing the door was sealed and locked tight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Moments later, the sounds of the engine powering up met Akira’s perked ears. It sounded exactly like the cruiser he used to fly for Blades missions, although he had never heard it start up from a sealed room before. The ground rumbled, the metal vibrated and he felt the shift as the ship was released from the hangar into the loft of the weightless space. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart was hammering, equal parts elated to be in a small cruiser out of bondage again, and overwhelmed by how novel and new and terrifying this felt. He sat back on the cot, peeling the limp pressure suit off carefully as the cruiser powered up and coasted. The displays were still locked, meaning they weren’t far enough from the warship yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira kicked the suit off, leaving it in a pile on the floor and hopped up to look into the transport pod. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Enzra and Dhas were still asleep, blissfully unaware of their new surroundings or the growing grinding sounds of the engines powering up. If they weren’t in the pod they would be shaken by the vibrations and frightened by the loud growling. Maybe the pod wasn’t as bad as Akira had thought, despite how badly he wanted to be able to touch them right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The displays blinked on and Akira rushed to press his face against them. These were not like the artificial displays in their quarters, this was a window display. Raw and real filtered only by the tech that maintained the hull’s integrity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Space yawned out around them, distant stars and nearby planets glimmering in the inky blackness. Dozens of Empire attack ships sailed by in formations, like schools of fish, and beyond them Akira got his first and final look at where he had been imprisoned for the past year.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The warship was </span>
  <em>
    <span>massive.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Looming over them in the distance, all purple and towering spines in the center of the swirling patrolling ships that protected it. Shiro had been admiral of </span>
  <em>
    <span>that?</span>
  </em>
  <span> And yet he was powerless to break them away from the control of the Empire? It was hard to believe on its face, but Akira knew the Empire was the singularly more dominant and cruel force in the universe. What power did any of them besides the Emperor himself have?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cruiser picked up speed and the engines lowered down to a cool, operational purr. Akira watched as the ships and stars and planets raced away from them. A few small attack ships maintained speed around them, wavering in and out of Akira’s fixed view. Escorts, he reminded himself, not pursuers like they had always been before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira stayed at the display for a long time, soaking up the bliss of space travel for the first time since that failed mission. He forced himself to remain in the now, in this moment, not letting this simple pleasure turn into regret and sadness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the pups woke up he would be able to hold them up to the display, have them experience this for the first time. For now they slept soundly, lulled by the perfect conditions within the pod. Akira moved from the pod to the cot, exhausted by everything that had happened today, by the changes and anxieties.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira didn’t remember falling asleep, but blinked hard against sleep to a chime from the kits’ transport pod. He scrambled up, saw that the pups were fussing and crying inside and quickly released the dome.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s okay, I’m here,” Akira cooed to the whimpering babes, their little faces flushed and wet from waking up in a strange place. The pod smelled of Akira and Shiro’s scents, but that alone wasn’t enough to stop their distress. Both the kits looked up at Akira with wide wet eyes, hiccuping and mewling. “Here let’s eat, up you come.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira hefted both of them into his arms, reveling in their familiar warmth and weight against him as he settled back onto the cot. He undid the tunic’s closure at the back of his neck and nestled the kits in close to nurse. They settled and suckled, tears still welling in Dhas’ eyes as he nursed. Akira cooed and hummed, eyes flicking up to the display.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were out of range of the warship now, the escort attack ships that had orbited them were gone. How long had he been asleep? He didn’t recognize where they were based on the few fleeting stars that sailed by. He still didn’t know where the station was they were heading to, he should have asked Shiro, maybe he would get a chance when Shiro came to check on them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira turned to the sealed door and blinked at the analog display. It was unlocked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That… couldn’t be right. It must have glitched. Analog displays got stuck sometimes, maybe Shiro had come to check on him while he was sleeping and the display caught. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira’s heart was up in his throat. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. The door couldn’t just be </span>
  <em>
    <span>unlocked.</span>
  </em>
  <span> What if one of the guards came in? What if something happened to Shiro? His mind could not fathom a reason for this to have happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had to be a glitch. He would wait until the pups were done nursing and he would get up to check and it would still be locked. He couldn’t do anything until the pups were done anyways. He darted his eyes back to his kits, warm and soft and relaxed as they had their meal, little eyelashes fluttering in sleepy contentment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira had to stay calm for them. No use getting worked up. He closed his eyes and breathed nice and deep, counting backwards, wiggling his toes, doing anything he could to focus. It was fine. They were fine. Kits came first. They would be safe in the transport pod, he just had to finish up and settle them back in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kits took their time, nursing until Akira was almost out of milk to give them. He eased them off his nipples, rubbing their full round tummies and cooing gentle words to them as he settled them back into the pod. Dhas fussed until Akira found his little mouse for his fist, Enzra blinked hard against her own sleepiness until she finally nodded off. Akira sealed up the pod, fists tight against it as he breathed deeply and prepared himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door was a simple airlock, all it took to open an unlocked one was to press the touchpad at its right. Like any cruiser Akira had been on. It wasn’t going to work anyways, Empire security was the most secure in the universe, no way it would just be unlocked and able to be opened from inside a secured locked down location.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira put his hand on the touchpad and the door slid open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira stood there at the open door. His heart was hammering in his ears, his tail slowly tucking between his legs. He waited, expecting a guard to appear from around the tight interior corridor corner at any second, baton in hand. He was a prisoner, a rebel, a problem case, an </span>
  <em>
    <span>omega.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He wasn’t permitted to walk freely around a cruiser. Something was wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a step forward, bare feet against the cold metal floor and expected something, anything to happen. But nothing did. The ship was quiet, just the hum of machinery and occasional beeping of monitors. There was a distant bang, a thud against metal that made Akira start. It was rhythmic and Akira dismissed it as ship noise. Nothing seemed out of place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira recognized the vague model of cruiser from this hall and followed his memory to the bridge. He couldn't hear anything above the racing thud of his heart. The ship was cold outside of the temperature controlled-suite. He felt exposed, frightened, he hadn’t freely wandered around a ship since… since…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned the final corner and found the airlock to the bridge. It was unlocked too. Akira waited a moment, frightened of what he would find within. What punishment faced him for wandering around from where he was supposed to be locked in. He pressed his hand against the pad and watched the door slide open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cruiser’s bridge sat before him in pristine Empire-issued glory. Everything intact, no manual overrides or modifications, the control panels and displays still cleanly held in their original casings. Sleek and unfamiliar, although Akira recognized its bones as the same cruiser he had flown in his past life.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes trailed down to the pilot’s chair, his nostrils flared to take in Shiro’s scent, his alpha was flying them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro?” Akira whispered into the silent room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro turned, ears perked forward and fur standing on end. His eyes were wild, his scent was unlike it had ever smelled before. They met each other's gaze and held it in silence, until Shiro’s eyes darted to the floor in the far corner. It was only then Akira smelled blood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did you-?” Akira started, eyes following Shiro’s gaze to the body that laid lifeless in the corner of the bridge. The Program guard, one of them, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Akira,” Shiro stood and moved towards him, “I told you to trust me. You need to keep trusting me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro?? Did you? What have you done?” Akira couldn’t explain the blind terror that ripped through him. The floor had been taken out from under him. Of all the things he expected, this was not it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro closed the distance and grabbed his shaking hands, “Akira, look at me,” His eyes were fierce, full of a wild fire Akira had never seen so alive within him. “We are </span>
  <em>
    <span>leaving</span>
  </em>
  <span> the Empire. Now I need your help, if you can’t, if you would rather go back to stay with the pups you can.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro,” Akira’s breath came hard and fast. “We can’t do this. We can’t, we can’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes we can,” Shiro asserted, brow furrowed. He pulled Akira’s hands up to him and kissed them, “We can. We have no choice. Here-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro dropped Akira’s hand and pressed a laser pistol into it. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>pistol.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need your help.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The escape attempt is cut short.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hopefully we will be sticking to a sort-of regular update schedule but no promises lol, don't forget I update progress etc on my twitter @rifatrope !</p><p> </p><p>Chapter 4 CW &amp; Tags</p><p>Content Warning:</p><p>Fic typical angst, sexual exploitation and rape culture, breeding/eugenics, etc.</p><p>High Tension &amp; anxiety, dangerous situations, murder, blood, violence, PTSD and minor flashbacks, crying, wound care, mention of infertility, weaponry</p><p>Tags:</p><p>anxiety, murder, blood &amp; violence, space travel, PTSD, hurt and comfort, truth revealed, space battles,</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>I need your help</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira must be dreaming. This couldn’t possibly be real. His entire existence over the past year had been restrained to one place, restrained to this one galra, the window of hope he had for escape had closed long ago. And yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gripped the pistol in his hand. His adrenaline kicked in, matching Shiro’s heightened scent, and he felt as if his skin would vibrate clean off his body. His alpha had just led him to what was possibly the </span>
  <em>
    <span>most </span>
  </em>
  <span>dangerous situation he could be thrown into. From the frying pan and straight into the fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And their </span>
  <em>
    <span>kits</span>
  </em>
  <span> were on board, for fuck’s sake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro,” Akira was at a loss for words. He felt as if his brain was overheating, too many thoughts, too many questions and fears and contingencies to consider. “You’re going to get us </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed,</span>
  </em>
  <span> or worse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s eyes were wide, wild, he was cornered. They both were. They were caught in this, both of them, and there was no way to undo it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Shiro’s nose wrinkled in a snarl, “I promised nothing would get between me and you, and the pups. This is our only chance, our only option.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira jumped at a loud bang, followed by more. The sound louder here than it had been in the corridor. He finally recognized it as </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hammering fists behind a sealed and locked door in the other hall. Shiro hadn’t gotten rid of all the guards yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck,” Akira breathed, “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shiro?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take care of it,” Shiro’s voice was low, the admiral tone. “You were a pilot, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira trembled, “Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need you to take over so I can secure the cruiser,” Shiro ordered as he moved towards the frantic, violent banging. “Keep us steady on the set coordinates, there shouldn’t be trouble because no one is expecting us back in radar for another three hours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait-” Akira’s head snapped in Shiro’s direction as the alpha moved to leave. “There is </span>
  <em>
    <span>no way</span>
  </em>
  <span> we aren’t being tracked already, Shiro!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro didn’t even turn, his hand over the door pad, “No, I’ve turned off the trackers and disconnected from the Empire servers. We have three hours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira remembered his own cruiser, the one he had flown on missions in his last life, and knew that the entire ship had to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>gutted</span>
  </em>
  <span> and refitted to finally rid it of all the trackers that were built within its hardware. There wasn’t a button you could press to shut it all down and disconnect it from the Empire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Shiro… didn’t </span><em><span>know</span></em> <em><span>that?</span></em></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wait-”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akira padded after him but froze when Shiro snapped his hard gaze back to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pilot the ship, Akira,” Shiro all but growled. “I need to neutralize this last guard before he gets out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira shrunk, powerless when his alpha threw his weight like this. It wasn’t just the conditioning Akira had bent to while learning to live with Shiro, it was hardwired into him as a bonded omega. He could only push so much against Shiro. Despite his own stress he wanted to ease Shiro’s. His safety depended on it, more so now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro took the moment of submissive silence to enter through the door, disappearing into the wing of the cruiser the banging was echoing from. Akira was alone in the cockpit on an Empire cruiser.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay. He just needed to breathe. His body was fighting against him on that, hiccuping gasps taking over now that Shiro was out of sight. He couldn’t lie to himself, this </span>
  <em>
    <span>was not</span>
  </em>
  <span> fine. But he mastered his breathing with a few forced long breaths and turned to the pilot’s chair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His exposed feet were sweating against the cold metal floor as he stepped up. He slotted the pistol into the built-in holster under the control panel and sidled into the seat, acutely aware of the sensation of his bare thighs against the leather. The chair was set too far back, the control just out of reach. He felt like a child. Ineffective. Small. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, there wasn’t time for that. He scrambled to adjust the seat, pulling it up tight and close to the control. He set his bare hands around it and saw that he was trembling. He pressed the cold metal in his tongue up against the roof of his mouth, teeth clenched, and kicked the thrusters up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This isn’t a joyride</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Keith</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, no, no, he needed to stay here. He couldn’t let his mind slip and fall into the darkness it harboured. He gripped the control and tested the little cruiser out, gently turning and curving to get a feel for it. It was top of the line, more responsive and sensitive than anything he had flown before. Alright, that eased some of his fear. He wouldn’t miscalculate a maneuver based on that. Not like last time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro had left the ship on AI control which Akira quickly turned off. Shiro said he disconnected the cruiser from the Empire’s tracking and network, what did he think powered the AI that calculated courses? Turning it off would alert the Empire, somewhere on some monitoring station there was an alert going up that this ship had gone offline. The trackers built into the ship’s hull would be blinking, sending coordinates and distress signals already. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no way there wasn’t multiple galra monitoring their ship from the moment it left the warship. The Program wouldn’t slack on tracking a breeding omega and two galra pups. Fuck, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>transport pod, </span>
  </em>
  <span>there was no way that didn’t have tracking technology lighting up in it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira was fully grinding his teeth, his tail between his legs under him and curling up into his lap, sweat pressed into the control in his hands. Shiro should </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> have done this. He had no idea what he got himself into and clearly had no idea what he was doing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was in the other room </span>
  <em>
    <span>killing someone. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akira blinked, the noise in his head lowered to a dull thrum. He leaned over the sleek control panels, eyes darting all to find the holo controls. A few taps later and a slick holo projection flicked on beside him. It took a few seconds to filter to the security monitors and another to find the room his alpha was in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the crew bunk room, a tight narrow space, and Shiro had the last guard in an armlock. The guard’s baton was on the ground, his pistol unaccounted for in the top-down image Akira had. Shiro had both the galra’s arms locked with his, the guard’s back to Shiro’s front and shoved up against the stacked bunks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira’s panic began to swell up in his throat. His eyes flicking between the struggle and the radar, expecting the Empire’s forces to swoop in at any moment. It had been at least two minutes since Shiro left the cockpit, one-on-one fights rarely lasted this long. It could have only meant a struggle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And there it was, blood was blooming through Shiro’s uniform at his shoulder. Akira’s eyes burned with tears immediately. His alpha - his </span>
  <em>
    <span>mate</span>
  </em>
  <span> - was injured and fighting for both their lives. For the lives of their kits. Every second since Akira had stepped into the cockpit made the situation more and more real. Dire and desperate. He could smell the desperation in the air along with the blood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro used his leverage to ram the guard against the bunks repeatedly, smashing the galra’s helmet into the hard edge of the bunk over and over. The guard convulsed, twitched, but didn’t stop resisting Shiro. Akira knew Shiro’s tech arm had a light blade but that he clearly could not activate it safely in this situation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was it, he was trying to buy time, to find a chance to summon it and end the fight. The guard kicked off the bunk, threw his weight back against Shiro and made him stumble back half a step. The guard pivoted them in that split second and Shiro’s face was in view of the security monitor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was baring his teeth, his eyes </span>
  <em>
    <span>murderous.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akira was lost in them. Frozen between fear and the urge to </span>
  <em>
    <span>protect him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Shiro had been made to murder his peers to get his position and never even appreciated the horror in that. Shiro had murdered for the Empire, but this was against everything he had been raised to be. The sire of his pups, furiously fighting for </span>
  <em>
    <span>them, </span>
  </em>
  <span>for something he believed in that believed in him back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira’s cheeks were burning with tears. The light blade glared to life on the screen and Akira blinked away, unwilling to watch his mate murder for him. It was too much. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help but think that this would be their last moments together. The moment the Empire caught up with them they would execute Shiro on the spot. There was no mercy for traitors in the Empire, no mercy for those who fought back against their rule. The kits would be taken to the Program. And Akira would be dragged back, re-educated, put through the training system </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span> and sent to some uncaring and unloving alpha.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira was weeping when Shiro returned. Trembling against the ship’s control. Knuckles tight around the control wheel. He had heard the door open and Shiro’s heavy steps in but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the starfield in front of him, whipping by as he piloted their lone cruiser through dead space. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Akira?” Shiro’s voice was soft, a far cry from the heightened alpha Akria had just watched fight a galra to the death. “Baby, it’s okay, we’re okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s large warm hands covered Akira’s on the control, the alpha leaning into the space to nudge and nuzzle at him. Akira hiccuped, the scent of Shiro’s blood sour as it clawed up behind his eyes, Shiro’s true scent soft and vulnerable with it. Akira let one hand be pried from the control, their fingers interlocking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The guards are taken care of,” Shiro said softly, there was a waver in his words but it was clear he was relieved. The biggest hurdle, in his mind, had been cleared. Akira couldn’t believe how ignorant he was of the Empire’s power. “I have the coordinates of some systems that are uninhabited and ones the Empire hasn’t taken over. This cruiser has enough power and resources to get us to a few of those locations, we can go and restart, settle down somewhere.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro,” Akira’s head was pounding, his tears dried up despite the ache in his chest. “We’re not going to make it without the Empire-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira snapped his mouth shut in habit, eyes screwing shut. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” Shiro squeezed Akira’s hand, “Tell me. No more rules, I defected, Akira. Tell me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira let out a shaky breath and pulled his hand away, he wanted both on the control. He kept his eyes out ahead of them, darting away only to check the radar, “The Empire is already tracking us, Shiro. These cruisers have built-in trackers within the hull and hardware. When the Blade takes over a ship they need to be gutted and refitted completely so they can’t be tracked by the Empire’s systems.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was quiet, straightening up. His demeanour and scent shifting from the protective, comforting alpha to the calculating and tense one Akira had walked in on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If they are tracking us they are probably waiting to ambush us in whatever system we end up in,” Shiro said quietly. “You can only travel so far before falling within radar range of a fleet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” A shiver ran down Akira’s spine. “And you just stole a breeding omega and two high-content pups from them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was quiet again, his scent souring fast. Akira tore his eyes away from the empty space to him, his ears were down flat at their sides, his fur limp from sweat, his expression… He looked lost, the cornered animal Akira saw earlier deflated into one that was expecting the snap of a predator’s jaws any second.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shiro, your shoulder,” Akira set the control back, adjusted for a manual cruise control and hopped out. The Blade kept the layouts and locations of supplies on their ships and cruisers the same as Empire ships, Akira was able to find the medical supplies easily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Shiro muttered, thoughts obviously elsewhere. There was dark blood-soaked at his shoulder under his uniform, he was large enough that he might not be feeling its loss, but Akira couldn’t stand by with his mate injured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sit, take off your jacket,” Akira ordered, his tail flicking the air.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro did as he was told, sinking into the copilot chair and undoing his uniform. Akira found the wound, sharp claw marks from the struggle scrapped around his shoulder and to his collar bone. When galra lost their weapons they resorted to teeth and claws, Akira being omega had not given him the genetics for it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s the third guard?” Akira asked as he sprayed antibiotic over the wound.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I got him first, when I locked down the doors he was in the second cargo hold and I was able to space him with the airlock,” Shiro explained, eyes flicking between Akira’s quick first aid and the control panel. “I took out the co-pilot at the same time. I didn’t want the cockpit to be unmanned, so I unlocked your door and waited for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira paused, “You planned for me to pilot?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro gave a weak huff that might have been a laugh, “I didn’t plan much, to be honest. I planned on escaping but the logistics kept changing. They moved the date around, they changed the transport, I just had to take this chance.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira pressed gauze onto the wounds, watching the bright red blood fill it up, “You should have told me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t,” Shiro smiled, tense, humour within the contained hysteria. “I couldn’t be sure they weren’t monitoring my quarters. It was too risky.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s the only smart thing you did,” Akira sighed. The entire situation was absurd. No, it was horrifying, they were on the razor’s edge of losing everything. He started to tear up again. His mind rocketed between awe at Shiro </span>
  <em>
    <span>defecting</span>
  </em>
  <span> and then the terror of failure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira sealed up Shiro’s wound with bandages and moved back to the pilot’s chair, an action that felt both familiar and also wildly </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong,</span>
  </em>
  <span> “You shouldn’t have done this, we could have just lived out the years with the pups. We could have just been happy together, taking some remote retirement or whatever the Empire does.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s scent shifted, not into anger but something close to it, “No, Akira, this was our only chance. The Program was…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira’s claws bit into the control, “The Program was </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They were going to take you back,” Shiro said, “They were going to retire you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The ground dropped out from under Akira. He was free-falling, lightyears from the ship he had learned to call home, a dead guard in the corner, piloting a cruiser to their end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro let out a stuttering breath, as if he had held it in for weeks, “The results from your last medical exam showed complications from the birth, you’re infertile.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Infertile?</span>
  </em>
  <span> It struck like a blow to the stomach. Akira’s tail twisted between his legs and up in his lap as the stars slid past them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They were going to take you,” Shiro’s voice rose, shaking with an anger that had been simmering. “They wouldn’t let me override it, there was no option to have you stay with me despite being unable to breed. I tried everything. They were arranging to match me with a new omega and they </span>
  <em>
    <span>refused</span>
  </em>
  <span> to tell me what would happen to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro stood in the corner of Akira’s vision, pulling his uniform jacket over his bandages. His frustration, his distance, the solemn silence over the past weeks suddenly made sense. Shiro couldn’t have told him, couldn’t risk the Empire overhearing them both discuss separation and attempts to escape. Shiro had planned this in secret to save them, to save </span>
  <em>
    <span>Akira.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira’s mind was in overdrive, burning up on the edges and he had to grit his teeth and compress it. One thing at a time. Mission first, he had to put the mission first. And Shiro had signed him up for a suicide mission.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where is your map?” Akira asked, tapping around the holo display.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro wavered on his feet for a moment, as if interrupted, then sat down in the co-pilot chair and pulled up the map for them, “I set coordinates for the Hydrus Sector, the planets there are uninhabited but have enough natural resources-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, patrol drones take scans every other week of that sector,” Akira slid his map around with his finger, scanning, looking, hoping he hadn’t forgotten.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Akira could hear the frown in Shiro’s voice, “I have a couple of other pinned locations I thought would be worth trying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need to-” Akira cut himself off from saying it. His nose wrinkled up in frustration at himself, at the situation, he couldn’t be a bonded omega </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> a-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The radar pinged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They found us,” Akira snarled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The holo read-out flipped to show the Empire ship on their tail. It was a patrol ship and Akira choked on his breath. It was happening </span>
  <em>
    <span>again.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Just like last time. Only now he wasn’t just a rebel, he was a breeding- no. He wasn’t. He had nothing to offer the Empire any longer. Nothing but his </span>
  <em>
    <span>children.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kits were still in the suite, safely secured in the transport pod. Akira would never see them again if the Empire pinned them down here. If only he had known, he would have stayed with them. He would have held them tight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira’s mind snapped back. He wouldn’t go down without a fight, and this time he had even more to lose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cut communication,” Akira ordered Shiro, sitting up and initiating the hyperdrives. They would need a few minutes to power up, but Akira should be able to evade until then. “Does this cruiser have a gun bay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Shiro was fully co-piloting now, he was shutting down communications and non-essential power to speed up the drives and, oh, this cruiser had a cloak too. “It's strictly a transport cruiser, no real offensive capabilities.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was cool under the pressure. Of course he was, he was an admiral up until, well, now. But it made Akira wonder if Shiro truly understood the weight of his defection, if he knew there was no going back. He must. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The patrol ship kicked up its speed, gaining on their much smaller ship. The closed communication channel would raise the alarm on any Empire ship, regardless of whether their cruiser was marked in the entire system or not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cruiser had maneuverability over the patrol ship though. And even if there was nothing nearby in the open dead space to use as cover or obstacles, Akira knew how to make himself a slippery target. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira set the thrusters to full speed and pulled into a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tight</span>
  </em>
  <span> turn. He was going to circle the patrol, slip behind it and force it to make a wide turn. They had precious cargo to protect, but Akira knew that every Empire ship would have the alert to not shoot at a cruiser that had high-content pups on board. And he had to bet on that, had to count on his kits for </span>
  <em>
    <span>protection</span>
  </em>
  <span> from the most powerful force in the whole universe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Akira?” Shiro yelled over the alarms ripping through the cockpit, hands clawing the control for balance as Akira took them sideways. “What are you-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up and trust me!” Akira shouted back. “I know what I’m doing!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If we get out of this, you’re never going to do a mission again</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira shut out the ghost of his past and focused. The cruiser took the turn well, sensitive and sharp. They flew past the patrol ship, getting a good look at it on their holo monitors as they did. As expected, there were no weapons aimed at them. But what was unexpected was how it turned into a sharp pivot at the exact same second Akira had turned their cruiser.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How were they predicting his movements? They must have figured out the evasion tactics the Blade was training their pilots in. Akira probably contributed to that. His past mistakes coming back to prey on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No matter. The hyperdrive and the cloak were powering up. Akira could just keep circling and zig-zagging until they could get out of its range. How many times would he need to do this? How long would they need to keep up weak evasion tactics to keep their kits from falling into the grips of the Program, to keep each other alive?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If the Empire boarded- no. No Akira had to stay here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They are predicting your maneuvers,” Shiro yelled over the din. “We have 40 seconds ‘til we can initiate more speed, but we are gonna run down our fuel supply.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have a better idea?” Akira swung the control in the other direction, drifting it violently in the opposite direction the patrol was mimicking. Only to see it had guessed his path and was gaining </span>
  <em>
    <span>again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro growled frustration and unstrapped from his chair. He moved just out of Akira’s sight, gripping the safety holds as the cruiser’s gravity made up for the new angle of the ship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where is the pistol I gave you?” Shiro shouted from behind Akira.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira’s eyes flicked down to the holster secured under the control panel, “It's here, I don't have anywhere to keep it on me,” what was Shiro up to? Did he think they would be-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An alarm screeched louder than the others, displays flashing and errors flying up faster than Akira could read them. It was an alert that Akira had only ever seen in simulators, one that always meant an immediate mission failure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Their tractor beam-” Shiro pulled up behind Akira bending over the back of his chair. “If the alarm is going, we only have ten seconds.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both looked at the countdown for the hyperdrive. Fifteen seconds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Akira slammed the control panel. The cruiser was already stuttering with the shift in gravity. This was it. The tractor beam would drag any ship into their holding bay and that would be it. A small cruiser like this couldn’t even hope to break free from it, hyperdrives or not. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Drop it,” Shiro ordered, pushing off the chair. “We need to lock down, I’m getting the pups.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira pushed back the control wheel and sunk in the chair, watching helplessly as the tractor beam’s light grew around them and the ship shook in its grasp. He had failed again. And he had this one moment to feel every emotion storming inside of himself before he had to shove it all away to defend his family.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were going to kill Shiro. They were going to take the kits away. It didn’t matter what happened to him if those two inevitabilities came to pass. They had taken everything away from him before, he couldn’t survive another round of re-education, or whatever it was they planned for him as an infertile omega.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was worth nothing to them. If he couldn’t be with his family he had nothing for himself either.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira closed his eyes tight. Found peace in the blackness behind his eyes. He pressed all of those emotions deep down, compressed to likely never ever be felt again. His last moments would not be in fear. The only thing Akira would leave behind would be Enzra and Dhas. Even if they forgot him, his love would live inside them. That could be enough. It had to be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira opened his eyes and jumped out of the chair, turning just in time to see Shiro leading the transport pod into the cockpit. His fears that the pod would have locked down and started sending out distress signals seemed misplaced, it was working normally when Shiro led it in and secured it against the cruiser’s safe box.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stood over it together, unlocking the display so they could see Enzra and Dhas sleeping peacefully behind the barrier. Blissfully unaware of the lights and alarms and changes in gravity within the isolated protection of the pod. Shiro put his hand to the display, large enough to cover the view of both of the kits’ little bodies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira put his hand over Shiro’s, over their kits, gripping his alpha’s hand as the ship rattled and groaned and was slowly swallowed up into the belly of the Empire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Shiro’s voice croaked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t,” Akira snapped, squeezing his hand tight before turning the display off. “We aren’t going down without a fight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Empire cruisers had lockdown protocols meant to secure the cockpit from rebels and other intruders. The primary function was to protect the connections to the networks and any information stored within the cruiser’s system from falling into enemy hands. Life came second. An Empire force on a patrol ship had the ability to override it, but it gave them a chance to make a last stand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro kicked the guard’s body out into one of the halls and locked down the two entry points. Akira initiated the protocol on the control panel, diverting all of the cruiser’s resources to the cockpit so the locked doors in the rest of the ship would need to be manually broken through. The view display darkened and shut down, a measure so that scouting drones would not be able to use the electric field to see inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last image Akira had of the stars was through the heavy purple light that was dragging him to his demise. Now they existed in limbo, feeling the rattle and shake as the ship entered the patrol’s bay and groaned at the shifts in pressure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get the pistol,” Shiro reminded Akira. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pistol felt wrong in Akira’s hands. He knew how to use it, but had lost his blade knife the last time his ship was taken. He hadn’t held a weapon since. He wasn’t sure his body would remember it as well as it remembered flight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he wouldn’t hesitate, he would take down as many Empire enforcements as he could before they had him and his family. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro had his own pistol, different from the standard-issue he had handed to Akira, and he stood with his feet at shoulder-width apart, fur bristled, but face a perfect mask of calm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know it would end so fast,” He said. The sound of his heartbreak in the quiver of the last word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How did he not know? He must have known it wouldn’t be easy to escape the Empire. But Akira couldn’t find the energy to be angry at his mate. Not now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was a failure from the start,” Akira said. “Not just today. We weren’t meant to stay together, we both knew that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Shiro turned, his calm melted into a look of wide-eyed hurt. “What do you mean? I always intended to stay with you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter, Shiro,” Akira couldn’t bring himself to comfort his mate, despite the love that burned inside him. “It was never up to us. All we can do now is take as many down with us as possible.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s ears perked, “You don’t have to side with me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes I do,” Akira tightened his grip on the pistol. His ears twitched in the direction of the sealed door. There was a mechanical whirl in the distance. The galra on board were forcing the ship open, they would be on them within moments.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They are going to split into the two halls, attack at the same time once they know the pups aren't at risk of being caught in the crossfire,” Shiro said quietly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They fell silent then, ears trained forward to listen. The mechanical groan stopped and the distant sounds of movement came closer and closer. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span> of something heavy and the mechanical whine again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's the one hall,” Akira corrected Shiro, both their ears twitching to confirm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn't matter that Shiro guessed wrong. Patrol ships were known to play out protocol loosely, especially with the variables their duties gave them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you think,” Akira could barely hear himself over his panicked heartbeat “they are going to take us alive instead?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was silent, jaw set as his face twitched into a silent snarl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pattern of distant sounds repeated, this time on the other side of the cockpit door. Neither dared speak as they kept their pistols upon it, ready to fire. The moment the Empire guards pried their way inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akira wished he could have held the kits one last time. He wished he had taken the moments before to pull his mate into one last embrace, to kiss him deeply and remind him that they were in this together. He wished for hindsight, to know that this was all going to happen so he could have fought to stop it, or to pull it off properly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door’s seal cracked. A large black gloved hand pried the last of it open with brute strength. Akira had expected gas, pistol fire, shouting of commands as he aimed with barely still, cramping arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A black hooded figure stood, purple lights shining in place of his face. Time stopped. The figure had an activated light shield, Shiro held his fire and shouted something to the dull thrum. The figure stepped in, posture powerful, but not aggressive. Its eyes, those purple lights, settled onto him and the world turned upside down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith snapped his pistol in Shiro’s direction, aimed square at his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Drop it, Shiro.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Blade of Mamora had taken their cruiser. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Keith regains his freedom, even if its nothing like what it once was.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm very excited to see how you all like this chapter, although I have to warn for rough emotional waters ahead. Make sure you check the cw, Keith really goes through it.</p><p>Chapter 5 CW&amp;Tags</p><p>*This chapter has a heavy amount of emotional distress, anxiety, anger, sadness, joy, the whole bit. </p><p>Guns, restraints, rescue, high anxiety &amp; stress, shame, PTSD, panic attacks, mention of forced nudity &amp; sexual assault (very light/brief), vomiting, nursing, reunion.</p><p>Tags:</p><p>Restraints, rescue, possessiveness, anxiety, complicated relationships, PTSD, panic attacks, reunion.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s eyes were wide as he stared in disbelief. Keith stared at him in the sights of his pistol, aimed squarely at his mate’s head. It should not have been possible for his adrenaline to heighten from where it had been when their ship was taken, as he prepared to have the final fight in his life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But here he was, his mind a screeching, grinding cacophony. Like two tectonic plates on a planet grinding against each other in defiance. Two distinct, separate lives rupturing in their attempt to combine in this single moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Drop it Shiro!” Keith repeated, shouting over the static scream in his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s eyebrows knit, disbelief and shock filling his eyes and making Keith’s heart break, “Akira?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Drop the gun!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Keith snarled the order, baring his teeth. “Do it Shiro!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro dropped his aim at the Blade, watching Keith all the while with an expression that pierced Keith’s heart. He didn’t look betrayed, as he maybe should, he looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>lost.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Defeated, but surrendering with the softest and fondest of looks. Gentle, </span>
  <em>
    <span>submissive.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The pistol fell to the ground, the clatter shocking Keith back to the steady march of time. Everything snapping back to reality.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s hands were up, he took a knee and didn’t break eye contact with Keith, “I yield.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith stepped forward, maintaining his aim and kicked the pistol out of the alpha’s reach, “I need restraints,” He addressed the Blade in the doorway. He couldn’t look up, he couldn’t acknowledge beyond the simple request right now. He had to do this one step at a time. And first, “He needs to be restrained.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro’s eyebrows knit closer as Keith approached, swallowing thickly. His alpha scent leaking what Keith could only describe as appeasement. Apology. He grit his teeth in response to the part of him, the weak omega in him, that wanted to bend to that so desperately.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Blade approached slowly, accessing the unusual situation that was unfolding before them no doubt. Keith’s ears perking to the sound of maglock restraints pulled from the Blade’s kit and held aloft.  He took them without breaking eye contact with Shiro, he needed Shiro to know he was serious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hands behind your back,” Keith ordered as he stood in front of the kneeling alpha.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro looked up at him with veiled, pleading eyes, “Akira…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith pressed the pistol against Shiro’s head, he did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>want the Blade to hear that name out of Shiro’s mouth, “Hands behind your back, do not make me repeat myself again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro obeyed, his eyes flicking down to the ground as his fingers met at the base of his spine. Keith relented, rounding Shiro and pressing the pistol under his arm when he remembered he had nowhere to hold it. He took the restraints and pressed them around Shiro’s wrists, locking them in place and to each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s hands trembled as he pulled away. No longer locked in eye contact with his captor and mate, no longer holding the pistol, the gravity of the situation threatened to crush him. His mind was in two places at once, one reveling in besting his captor and returning home. The other, well, he could not deny he was no longer the Keith that had been taken.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The reek of distress from Shiro was poison. Keith held his breath and shoved Shiro’s head down to the ground. He needed his scent subdued and beneath him, he needed to be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He kept Shiro down under his foot, privately grateful the alpha did not attempt to fight back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith,” Kolivan’s voice sliced through the haze. Keith shuddered at the sound of his name. His mask was off, the light shield down, his unshifting grimace unchanged from when Keith had last seen him before his failed mission, “Are the kits secure?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith blinked hard, his heart beat as if it were trying to escape, “In the transport pod, in the corner.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kolivan nodded. Keith knew there had to be Blades waiting in the hall, just beyond, but he didn’t want them here yet. He couldn’t. He-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you injured?” Kolivan asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith shook his head. The simple answer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kolivan’s yellow eyes shifted, and Keith remembered what he was wearing. The loose, short tunic was see-through, the shorts he had chosen for the journey were little more than underwear. He might as well have been standing stark naked in front of the head of the Blade of Mamora. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am going to get you and your young somewhere safe onboard,” Kolivan said slowly, as if Keith were a skittish and cornered animal. He took off his overcloak, watching Keith carefully, “We will handle the Admiral.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A jolt shot through Keith’s body, “No. No one is touching Shiro except </span>
  <em>
    <span>me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kolivan’s ears pitched back by a degree, grimace tightening, “Your focus needs to be on yourself and your young, Keith. We will handle the Admiral.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith growled at his superior, fully baring his teeth as his fur stood on his spine, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“No.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kolivan was silent for a moment. His nostrils flared and Keith curled in on himself. He had always, </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> been on blockers and scent masks while in the Blade, and now he reeked of distress. Of pathetic omega need and weakness. Keith was standing with his foot on his mate’s head, pressing him into the ground, but he was still dressed like an omega play toy, he still reeked of </span>
  <em>
    <span>mated.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was as good as nude and mewling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In front of his superior Blade, in front of the galra that trained and allowed an omega in his ranks. Keith had failed a mission, gotten himself captured, and now he was growling and protective over the Empire scum that had him imprisoned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What was he doing?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith,” Kolivan’s voice was low, but comforting. “No harm will come to him but he needs to be secured. No decisions will be made without your approval.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s hands tightened into fists. His eyes burned and threatened to spill. His core was trembling, desperate to collapse, and Kolivan, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kolivan,</span>
  </em>
  <span> being here telling him that he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>make a decision…</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was almost enough to have him fall apart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Keith’s voice quivered. He relented, stepping away from his alpha, shivering as Kolivan approached and carefully hung his cloak on Keith’s sunken shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will have you and your young secured safely,” Kolivan’s strong presence was soothing in a way Keith didn’t remember it being. “Take things slowly, Keith.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kolivan stepped out of the cockpit then, Keith’s ears perked towards the hall at the quiet orders that were being handed out. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Everyone vacate the hall, take the captive after I leave, use no force unless necessary. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was further murmuring on the comms, but Keith’s head was once again full of a consistent, low static he could barely hear over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except for Shiro.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Shiro said. His head was still down to the floor, prostrating himself even without threat or force. “Don’t worry about me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t,” Keith forced the words out, as much as they made his stomach churn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you and the pups are safe, that’s all that matters to me,” Shiro said to the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith gritted his teeth. He was sick with rage, with indignation, with hurt and heartbreak and love. All mixed together into something toxic that made his skin crawl. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t handle hearing Shiro say this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enough,” He snapped. Shiro went quiet, eyes easing closed and scent dropping to a submissive lull. It was wrong. He smelled wrong. But Keith wanted nothing else from him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith secured Kolivan’s cloak around him, covering his exposed chest and legs, and went to the kits’ transport pod. They were slumbering still, although Keith knew they would be up before too long to nurse. He unlocked the gravity anchor and guided it towards the busted open door, past where Shiro knelt on the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Akira…” He whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not my name,” Keith answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was silent, and then, “I am sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith did not look down at him and did not answer. Kolivan appeared at the entrance, the hall now cleared, and Keith followed him out of the transport cruiser.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith had been in a hangar bay what had only felt like hours ago under the darkness of the pressure suit. Pulled along by long control rods at his throat. Now he stepped down the ramp of the cruiser freely, bare feet padding slowly after Kolivan with the transport pod gliding at his side. It was cold, Keith’s silky fur barely enough even under the thick Blade cloak that he clutched around himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was no one present in the bay. Symbols of the Empire were sanded out of the walls, though the shadow remained ominous under the fresh Blade of Mamora symbol painted over them. A handful of small attack ships were stored, mis-matched models and origins representing what the Blade had managed to scavenge and bargain for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their footsteps echoed in the empty space. Keith couldn’t help thinking how </span>
  <em>
    <span>surreal</span>
  </em>
  <span> this all felt. Like a dream once again, no warning or reason to what was happening around him. After all that time sequestered within three small rooms and the strict punishing regiments of the Program, being back among his people felt…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel happy. But Keith felt almost nothing. He turned and looked at the transport cruiser, where he had left Shiro behind. He had been overwhelmed with emotions in the cockpit, but it was as if he left it all there with his alpha. Nothing but a shell in his place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you going to do to him?” Keith asked, words cracking from his dry throat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kolivan led Keith into one of the long service corridors in the patrol ship, “We can discuss that later. First you need to rest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No I’m fine, I just need to take care of the kits.” Keith scrunched his nose up in an almost-snarl. Kolivan was treating him like he was delicate, weak, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>an omega</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith had worked so hard to overcome his designation and fight his way to the Blade of Mamora trials and through training. All that time Kolivan had been hesitant and had refused to allow Keith to join espionage missions. And now he was seeing Keith like this, saved from a failed mission, in the trappings of the Empire with two pups at his hip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shame welled deep in Keith. He attempted to shove it down but there was nowhere left to push his emotions, it sat in his throat as Kolivan turned to give him a stern look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith,” Kolivan said firmly, “You have been held captive by the Empire for nearly two years. My first priority is to see that you are healthy and well rested. It’s rare we ever recover Blades who are taken, much less ones with young. Discussions will be had after it is confirmed that you are well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith trembled. He was about to topple under the weight. Kolivan seemed to sense it in him, and quickly resumed guiding the path to where Keith was to rest. There was no arguing with the head of the Blade and there was no rebuttal Keith could conjure up that wasn’t a lie. Anger rose, as it did, and then subsided back into the numbness that spread within. Keith followed Kolivan in silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The patrol ship was like every other Blade vessel Keith had boarded before, walls and consoles stripped to remove trackers and unneeded tech, all mixed in with the original architecture of the Empire as its bones. They passed no one in the halls or the lift, Kolivan’s comm lit dimly on occasion but no sound or alerts rang out. It was eerily silent, nothing to combat the swelling tide of emotion that was threatening to choke Keith if he let himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally Kolivan turned to a door and unsealed it. A simple ship suite behind it, a low bed, a small sitting area and bathroom to the side. Less than half the size of the one Keith had lived in for over a year, but untouched, sterile and unclaimed. The Blade maintained quarters like this for diplomats, special operatives, and rescues. Keith supposed he was the latter. The other Blade members onboard would be in the crew bunk rooms on the other side of the ship. Out of sight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith led the transport pod inside, anchored it in the center of the small room and changed the display so he could see the kits slumbering inside. Dhas and Enzra appeared, both asleep, oblivious to how their entire world had changed through two sets of hands since their last meal. It could have only been three, maybe four hours. The pod was supposed to have atmospheric effects that encouraged longer, more restful sleep. But they would be stirring soon, would they notice that their surroundings had changed again? Would they sense that the world they had been born into was now upside down?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kolivan stood in the doorway, expression hardening, “I can send for a hot meal and new clothes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Keith answered. He felt strange. Stiff and defensive. As much as he wanted to reconnect with Kolivan, to reassume his identity as a Blade and return to the life he had, he also wanted Kolivan to leave. He wanted him gone, away from the kits, out of this strange and sterile new den.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kolivan must have noticed, his ears pinned just slightly, “Take your time, Keith. Focus on your kits. Krolia is returning from a scouting mission, if you wish to see her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mom?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes,” Keith’s voice stumbled over itself. “Okay.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kolivan watched Keith for a moment, nostrils twitching at what Keith could only imagine was the scent of his distress, his fear, his protective omega instincts. Kolivan stepped back, bowed his head ever so slightly, and said, “I am glad to see you safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door slid closed. The mechanism remained unlocked from the inside. Keith was alone with the pups, in this strange new space, on board a Blade ship. Keith’s ears twitched at the silence, nothing except for the gentle hums of the ship around him. His nostrils flared and scented… Nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kolivan’s light scent barely stayed in the air before dissipating. The elder alpha had himself sterilized long ago, his scent now weak and unobtrusive. All alphas in the Blade of Mamora were required to be on suppressants or blockers while on active duty. So the ship smelled of nothing but the stale purification of oxygen as it was pumped into the halls. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith shrugged Kolivan’s cloak off, dropped it over a chair and strode to the sealed display on the far wall. A few clicks on the simple panel and it activated, now a window to the star field that shot past the patrol ship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The quiet, small room gave Keith’s head the space and calm to reel back through everything that had just transpired. The Empire guards watching as Shiro fitted the hood over his head. The blind walk to the transport cruiser. The unlocked door. The smell of blood from the Empire guard in the cockpit. Shiro killing another guard in the security monitor. Keith’s bare hands on the ship’s control. The pistol in his hand, trained at the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The failed mission. The same evasive maneuvers. Kren at his side yelling over the screaming alarms. The Empire ship swallowing theirs whole, the bright light that cut through their ship. Electric prods. Blood. Darkness. The Program stripping his uniform, holding his legs open, the small cell. His hands raw as they hammered against the sealed door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s breath shuddered and choked, his knees weak. He dropped to the ground, curling around himself and gasping for air as hot tears streamed from him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was all over.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He was out. He had escaped. The impossible had happened to him, inducted by the Empire and returned in one piece to his people with his kits safe. So many times he thought that it was all over for him, he had thought he would be interrogated to death. That the Program would deem him useless and destroy him. That his alpha would reject him and send him away. That the Empire would take their ship and he would go down to protect Dhas and Enzra.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith was sobbing now. Crying as loud and as ugly as he could, pushing his breath and voice to their limits to let it all out. The despair, the relief, the shame, the terror of it all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>home. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same. He had been changed in ways that could never be recovered. He had lived as an Empire omega. He had served the Empire </span>
  <em>
    <span>happily</span>
  </em>
  <span> and given his body to an Admiral that had </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed a blade member in his past.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And where was Shiro now? What was going to happen to him? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith pulled his head up from his chest, shivering and cold. Shiro had gotten them free from the Empire. It was him that had pulled the trigger and made the escape attempt, as ill-conceived as it was. It was Shiro that had given Keith mercy- no. Shiro had given </span>
  <em>
    <span>Akira</span>
  </em>
  <span> mercy. He had treated Akira well once he behaved, once he stopped fighting, once Shiro was able to get what he wanted out of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro was an Admiral of the Galra Empire, traitor or not, it didn’t erase what he was and had been. How many innocent civilians had died from his commands? How many rebel allies and Blades? Did Shiro stand at attention while planets were invaded, collonalized, or completely wiped from existence? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s heart ached. He couldn’t think like this. He- no. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had to.</span>
  </em>
  <span> This was the truth! Bond or no bond, Shiro only stopped being his enemy when he had renounced the Blade, when he surrendered. Nothing changed that. No action forgave that. A kind captor was still a captor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith stood on trembling legs, sick to his stomach, and rushed to the bathroom to keel over the lavatory. He emptied his stress with great heaves, his body rejecting the conflicting traumas and comforts and truths that stormed within him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He spat the last of the bile, gagging and heaving even when there was nothing left. Sweat coating his velvet-soft fur from the effort. He had to stop letting his mind run wild. He needed to get a grip, especially if he was going to take care of his kits and convince Kolivan he was able to stand and make decisions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever those decisions would be. The concept of choice was overwhelming right now. He couldn’t imagine what options were open to him, an omega Blade with two young kits. He didn’t know what could be done about Shiro, or what he even wanted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith hated Shiro as equally as Akira loved him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith stood and washed his face, sticking his tongue out over the weak stream of water. The kits were going to wake up any moment and would need him. He needed to get himself together and fast. He mentally put away the turmoil and trauma and confusion. The calm and peace had gotten to him too quickly, the battle wasn’t over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a chime at the door that made Keith jump in his skin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mom?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He thought hopefully, choking out the tears that threatened to rise to meet her. He padded across the small suite, softening his expectations when there was no follow-up comm message at the door. It had been a long time since Keith had been in a proper suite with a working door he could use but the familiarity rushed back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tapped for a visual into the hall and saw no one. His ears flattened, fearing the worst as he slowly opened the door. It was a delivery, dropped by a Blade who had clearly been told to stay out of sight of the newly rescued omega. Keith brushed that thought aside and gathered up the plastic-wrapped, soft parcel into his arms and snatched up the familiar ration pack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door locked behind him securely and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>normalcy</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it tickled the back of Keith’s neck as left the pack and parcel on the cot. He leaned over the pod, eager to see and smell his kits, and opened the dome over it. The scent of Dhas and Enzra filled Keith’s nose immediately, soothing all the distress that he had just been drowning in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The little kits stirred, little paws wriggling and noses working as their atmosphere changed. Dhas began to fuss, small mews of displeasure at being awake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It's okay, you’re safe,” Keith said to them, scooping both of their little warm bodies into his arms. It might have been the first time he said that and meant it despite the fact it might have been the first time that they </span>
  <em>
    <span>were not</span>
  </em>
  <span> actually safe. “I got you little ones.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dhas continued to fuss, tears welling up in his squinting little eyes. Enzra mouthed at Keith’s loose tunic, tail flicking clumsily against him. He settled back onto the unfamiliar cot, remembering how mere hours earlier he had done this exact thing on another ship. Back when he was still a captive, when he had no thoughts of the future or himself. When the pups were still slated to be property of the Galran Empire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith blinked. The kits weren’t going to the Empire. The kits were going to stay with him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The kits were going to stay.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tears came faster than Keith could control, running down his chin before he realized he was crying. Droplets falling onto the kits’ baby-soft fur like dew. Keith had them, they were safe, they were away from the Empire. He was going to be able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>raise them. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dhas’ fussing turned into pitched cries, little limbs thrashing as his parent shuddered and wept silently. Enzra stilled her fidgeting and began to whine as well. All three of them locked in an empathetic, confused choir of tears and cries. Keith held them close, squeezing them as tight as he dared. He let the reality, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>joy</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it settle against him. The Empire and the Program had taken so much from him, promising to take his children, so much so that Keith had stopped himself from considering their future. The wall he had built around them crashed to the ground, the expanse beyond it terrifying in its optimism and vast possibility.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith had never thought about them being older than five years old. He had never thought of how he would raise them given the chance. He had never thought of how they could, </span>
  <em>
    <span>would, </span>
  </em>
  <span>grow up free of the Empire and under the protection of the Blade. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was overwhelming. So much so that Keith had to reel himself back from looking over its edge and remember where he and the kits were now. They were crying, confused by Keith’s sudden outpour of emotion, and probably hungry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” He cooed, cradling and rocking them. He undid the strap of his tunic and offered the kits the chance to nurse. “I’m okay, we’re okay.” How could he explain to these little beans what had happened? How their world had just expanded? “Everything is going to be alright. Trust me, little ones.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The crying was quickly replaced with suckling and nursing, although the tears did not quite stop. Dhas and Enzra both staring up at Keith with wide, leaky eyes. Dhas shuffled, face wrinkling softly as his little nostrils flared and scented. He unlatched, crying again, nose working urgently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were in a strange place, again, and this time Keith had filled the room with his own distress and panic and tears. The poor little ones wouldn’t be able to understand why, only that their dam was unhappy. But it was more than that. Dhas only settled when his little nose was against Keith’s tunic, inhaling the familiar scent of their old quarters, of Keith, of… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shiro</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A knot formed in Keith’s stomach at the thought. At the start of this journey Shiro had cradled Dhas in their quarters, settling him down in his own crib and then moving him to the pod for transport. The kits had both imprinted on him, used to his scent and comforted by it. And now, what? What did that mean for them? For Keith? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What was going to happen to Shiro?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dhas, shh, it’s alright baby,” Keith cooed. He pulled the loosened tunic around the little kit, wrapping it around him. Dhas settled, hiccuping with his little nose working at the familiar scent around him. “I know everything is different. I know it's scary, but you’re tough. You’re going to figure it out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dhas went back to nursing and soon both of the kits had full bellies and wide, awake eyes. Keith wriggled free from the tunic and laid it down on the cot like a blanket. He laid the kits down on it, both of them craning their little necks and their fluffy, still-folded ears twitching as they tried to grasp their surroundings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith took the opportunity to undress, to peel off the tiny “shorts” and toss them aside, sliding off the thin silky leg guards and letting them pool on the floor. He shuddered to think that Kolivan saw him like that, breasts visible under the sheer tunic, the shorts barely containing his dick. He was thankful that Kolivan had ordered the others away to protect him from the humiliation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The plastic wrapped package contained a standard-issue Blade under suit. A thick and sturdy garment that covered from neck to toe. It was meant to be worn under armor and over layers, but served as a comfortable suit an agent could easily sleep in. It was familiar and Keith’s heart nearly skipped a beat as he stretched it over his skin. He was finally warm, covered and free of restraints.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except for the collar. Keith had forgotten about it until now. His fingers brushed the thin metal ring at his throat and the excitement of his new clothes faded. His thoughts lingered, ghosting over memories of the old collar that bit into him daily for his blood. Shiro’s face when the new collar was unpackaged and presented to Keith. How Shiro had thought it beautiful, how Shiro had thought Keith would like it, how completely ignorant Shiro was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shiro, the Empire Alpha who had committed treason to get his </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span> to safety.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No. Not now. Keith had to stop. He needed to rest, like Kolivan said, these thoughts needed to wait.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned his attention to the rest of the package, to the sleek gloves and the sturdy scuffed boots inside. Keith hadn’t had shoes since he was taken to the Program. The boots were tight, warm, and squeezed in a way that was both familiar and completely foreign now. He couldn’t feel the floor when he stomped down to settle into them, he felt as if he could run for miles in these. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith opened the ration pack and smiled at the familiar and homey protein block inside. A pouch of mineral water, dehydrated greens, and a single sweet chew with nutrients. Keith had lived months of his life off of these ration packs. He never thought he would be this happy to eat one though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He bit into the block and only then realized how hungry he was. It had been hours since he ate, he had fed his kits twice and emptied what little remained of his stomach just earlier. His body twisted in need of nutrients, for rest, the basics that he had held at bay while dealing with the crises as they came. Keith needed to take care of himself and the kits. He needed to rest, as Kolivan said. But even as his body screeched in need he couldn’t relax, he couldn’t drop the silent underlying panic that colored him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith set down the half-eaten block and breathed in nice and slowly. He was all over the place. And he was alone. Somewhere deep down he expected that Shiro would appear at the door, at the usual time after his duties were completed. Then Keith wouldn’t be alone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door chimed and Keith nearly fell off the cot in alarm. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shiro,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought dumbly. He scrambled up and stood at the door silently, hand hovering over the console. He hist was up in his throat, his tail curving between his knees.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The console’s comm line lit, Keith’s ears perked towards it and- “Keith? Can I come in?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mom</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith opened the door and Krolia stared back at him from the other side. For the first time in what felt like </span>
  <em>
    <span>years,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Keith finally felt like he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>home.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hesitated in the doorway, eyes glassy, looking as overwhelmed as Keith felt. Both of them colliding into each other’s orbit suddenly and unexpectedly. Keith’s hands trembled at his sides, and the only thing he could manage to say was, “Mom.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Visit my page on twitter @rifatrope to see how you can get chapter updates a week early!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Keith catches up with Krolia and struggles to adjust to his sudden new normal.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Buckle in, this chapter is an emotional tilt-a-whirl. </p><p>CW;</p><p>*This chapter has a heavy amount of emotional distress, anxiety, anger, sadness, joy, the whole bit. </p><p>Mother/Child Relationships (including resentments, protectiveness, tender moments, etc), shame, anger, recovery, PTSD, scattered thinking, disordered sleep, discussion of nursing, discussion of blockers,  panic attack.</p><p>Tags:</p><p>Reunions, catching up, hard truths, rocky recovery, crying, affection, protective behavior, panic attack</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Enzra’s wide eyes were staring up at her grandmother, little nose working as her little paws yanked at Krolia’s long braid. Dhas stayed clinging to Keith, his nose still against the shirt Keith had stripped away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was calm in the small suite now. When Krolia first stepped across the threshold and held Keith it had been loud, fraught, tears and clinging fingers. Keith had never had a solid grasp on how much time he had spent in the Empire’s grasp but his mother knew down to the day. The grief had been too raw in the moment and now, a few hours later, the storm subsided to a gentle lapping of waves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s just like you were a kit,” Krolia smiled down at Enzra, tracing around the kit’s face with a finger. “So confident, not a single fear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith wasn’t sure that was who he was any longer. He hoped his mother didn’t see how broken he felt, how beaten down and exhausted. She hadn’t asked a single question yet about his time under the Empire outside of a simple </span>
  <em>
    <span>are you alright? Were you injured?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He suspected she might have expected worse from him, brands or disfigurement, the worst the Empire had to offer their captives.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dhas is going to have a hard time,” Keith murmured, looking down at the little kit’s twisted up face, his little fist trembling around his mouse. “He’s really sensitive and he really-”</span>
  <em>
    <span> bonded to Shiro</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “- isn’t used to the scent of this place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia nodded slowly, “Well, it is a big change for them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith couldn’t help but read his mother’s double meaning. It's a big change for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It shouldn’t be. This was home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith held in a sigh, “How did Kolivan find us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew he was jumping from one painful topic to another, but what topic wasn’t painful right now? He might as well be hopping stone to stone over a volcanic river, expecting the next step to be less hot than the last.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia’s expression closed up, “He, well, you know how the Blade operates, Keith. We didn’t expect to have an opportunity to get you back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith knew. And he knew what his mother wasn’t saying in an attempt to protect him. The Blade of Mamora cut agents loose who were captured by the Empire. It was too dangerous, too risky, all but impossible to get someone out from under the Empire’s boot. Everyone in the Blade knew that when you were taken, you were as good as dead to the rest of the Blade. Keith never had any illusions that they were going to save him, he knew better than that, so much so that he still could barely believe he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We had information come in from our informants about you,” Krolia frowned slightly, keeping her eyes down on the little kit kicking in her arms. “Just bits and pieces. One informant got your designation and so we were able to track just the basics. When you were moved from one place to another, when you were expecting…” Krolia went quiet for a moment, tender as she held the results of Keith’s capture in her loving arms. “Kolivan got the date and location of your transport, and knew it was a small ship. He kept the patrol just on the edges of the route, in case there was an opportunity and there was.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith was lucky. He knew that. He shouldn’t even be here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did Kolivan share that information with you?” Keith asked, his skin crawling at the idea that his mother was being updated about whether or not he had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>bred.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “About me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia took in a big breath and let it out slowly, Enzra was slowly falling asleep in her arms. “He offered the information from the beginning, but I decided I didn’t want to know. As long as you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith balanced the opposing desires for his mother to </span>
  <em>
    <span>never know</span>
  </em>
  <span> what happened to him, and desperately wanting her to know already. There was no way to easily navigate this, he had never considered it before today, and in the end he didn’t want his mother to suffer any more. Enough tears had been shed between them just hours earlier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The kits must have been a surprise then?” Keith rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand, he had used up his tears but felt his eyes burn nonetheless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia smiled and stroked Enzra’s silver markings on her head, “A pleasant surprise if I’m being honest. Although Kolivan did have an alert sent out to everyone on this ship’s crew that you were here with kits, so, I had a little warning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith didn’t like that. He didn’t want it broadcast to every Blade in the area that he was back from the Empire with young, tangible evidence that he, an omega, had been bred like an animal. It also brushed against an instinct deep in himself, he didn’t want everyone to know he was nesting with kits while his alpha was gone. Keith could protect them, of course, but he didn’t want to be put in the position to do so. But he also didn't want to be a liability or seen as weak. There was no good position here, he just had to feel his feelings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So all the Baldes know,” Keith mumbled, Dhas was snuffling as his eyes got heavy. As if he didn’t want to succumb to sleep in this strange place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>shameful</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have kits, Keith,” Krolia was a perfect picture of heartfelt sympathy. But Keith couldn’t see past </span>
  <em>
    <span>pity.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “You were born and raised under the Blade’s watch and protection. It won’t be any different for them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it will,” Keith couldn’t help it, he couldn’t push down the anger that was bubbling up and tainting his homecoming. Dhas whined at his dam’s scent shift, and Keith had to roll him close to the balled-up shirt between him and Keith’s chest. “It’s already different for them. Dad wasn’t a captive, he wasn’t bonded against his will, he wasn’t rescued from a system that gave him a serial number. You and dad were…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What? In love? Was he not in love in Shiro?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith gritted his teeth. He had forced himself </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> to think of Shiro the entire time his mother was here at his side. He couldn’t take it. His mother was everything he imagined a perfect alpha should be, caring and soft and willing to risk it all for her partner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which... was exactly what Shiro had done for him. But that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>different.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He hadn’t started out that way, he had started as a terrorizing monster. He had stripped Keith of everything he had, cut his hair and kept it like a trophy. His mother hadn’t commented on his hair, now brushing his shoulders, nor the sliver that shined on his tongue. A moment ago he was thankful, now he felt angry about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith,” Krolia reached across the cot they were sitting on and squeezed Keith’s upper arm, “You went through a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I know this isn’t what you would have chosen for yourself or for them. I know you are going to need time to settle and heal and decide what you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the same pitying speech Kolivan gave him. They were treating him like a wounded bird, too frightened or too wounded to flutter out of the open cage. He was growing tired of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> I decide?” Keith stood from the cot and settled the half-asleep Dhas into the transport pod, if he could get the kits sleeping and put away he wouldn’t need to worry about his scent shifting distressing them. “I don’t see any options or suggestions from anyone, I doubt I can be a Blade while </span>
  <em>
    <span>breastfeeding.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith reached across and took Enzra from his mother, the little kit blissfully asleep and drooling. He closed them both up in the pod, insulated and safe against the anger and confusion brewing inside of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith…” Krolia was exasperated. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Exasperated. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Keith could barely find the energy to feel badly for her. “You are always going to be a Blade. It doesn’t matter if you have young or not. You don’t need to worry about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that,</span>
  </em>
  <span> no one sees you as anything less than what you were when you were taken.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith frowned at her, crossing his arms, “Except now I have a history everyone needs to creep around, it’s not just my sex desingation everyone needs to pretend to ignore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia leaned back and took a soft breath, she wasn’t taking Keith’s bait and part of him wished she would. He didn’t know why, but part of him wanted her to just argue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everyone in the Blades has gone through something,” She said finally. “That’s something that ties us all together. You don’t know everyone’s history, or the entirety of it. And yes, it's unfair that you have to wear yours on your sleeve, but people like me and Kolivan? We understand more than you know. No one held your designation against you, we only wanted to protect you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last words rung painfully between Keith’s ears. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Protect you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He wanted to spit out his anger at his mother, tell her that they had failed to protect him. That the years he had spent training and fighting to be taken seriously as a Blade did nothing to protect him from the cruelty the Empire pressed into him. She didn’t know what he experienced, she hadn’t even wanted to know while he was gone. Some protection.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yet, the truth in her voice cracked past his indignation. His eyes burned. His mother just wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>to protect him.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And her failure to do that must hurt her as much as it hurt him. Maybe more so. He has his </span>
  <em>
    <span>own </span>
  </em>
  <span>young now, and the despair he had felt when he learned they would be taken no matter what he did had done more to kill his spirit than anything the Program or the Empire had done before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith,” Krolia’s eyebrows knit as Keith trembled, she lifted her arms, “Keith, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith gave in, he crawled onto the cot and into his mother’s arms. He made himself small, as if he were still a child and let her arms circle him. Her scent was faint from years of blockers, but still distinctly </span>
  <em>
    <span>her.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He had craved this parental affection since they first pulled apart two hours earlier, tear streaks down both their faces. He just didn’t know how to come back to it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia stroked Keith’s hair, letting her fingers comb it gently, “We can take things one step at a time, for both you and the kits. I know how you are, and I can’t stop you from pushing ahead, but I want you to just take it one step at a time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She combed Keith’s hair with her fingers away from his face to the nape of his neck, Keith nuzzled into her, scenting her and realizing that it wasn’t satisfying in the way it had once been. “Kolivan wants to wait before we talk, but I need to know what my options are. I need to know what… What they are planning to do to …”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t bring himself to say Shiro’s name to his mother. He didn’t know how to broach that topic at all. His protective alpha mother must hate that Keith was bonded to a strange Empire alpha, that her only child was claimed by the enemy. Keith didn’t know how to express the complexity he felt about Shiro to her, it didn’t feel right to talk about it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia moved strands of Keith’s hair with her fingers, it took a moment for Keith to realize she was braiding it for him, “No action has been taken yet regarding the captive,” She said it evenly, not an ounce of emotion or opinion within the words. “Kolivan is in contact with the bases to see what our options are, once he has options we can have a meeting to discuss them, all together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t stay here, can I?” Keith closed his eyes, his mother’s warmth was inviting and he was very exhausted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A ghost patrol ship on an active mission isn’t safe for the little ones,” Krolia pulled a strand of cord from her pocket and tied it around the short braid she had woven in her son’s hair. “I will come with you, if you want, help with the kits for as long as you need.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was… something. The dark path that stretched out before Keith now had at least a dim light, his mother would help with the kits, he wouldn’t be alone. But he couldn’t take a step in any direction until he knew what they were going to do with Shiro.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Where was Shiro now? In a holding cell, most likely. If Kolivan kept his word, Shiro would be unharmed, put away for safekeeping until his fate was decided for him. It felt strange. Keith couldn’t help but think that Shiro would be coming at any moment, home from his duties, picking up the little ones into his arms and kissing Keith. Now he was gone. And Keith didn’t know how he felt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith had been a captive for two years, in one capacity or another, and nothing quite felt different yet save for the presence of his mother. Imagining that Shiro was now in a holding cell, prisoner to a faction he had once made Keith disavow, it twisted up into an uncomfortable knot in his chest. The only thought he could commit to was the hope that Shiro had cooperated and that his Blade brothers had not used violence against him. Whether it was actual fondness or ust his omega instincts, he didn’t care. Not right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The more he thought and let his mind wander the more he felt his own exhaustion lay against him. Safe in his mother’s arms, he curled tight against her, pulling his feet up and his tail wrapping close. He dozed as he listened to Krolia’s heartbeat and found in his last lucid moments before sleep took him the desire to be close to Shiro like this again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith fell asleep fast and dreamed of nothing. But in the dark, exhausted sleep his anxiety fermented and grew. He was uneasy, waking what felt like every hour, shivering when he woke in a new position than the one he fell asleep in. Waking again under a blanket, his mother sitting up on the edge of the bed on her comm. Each time felt like a blink, the only proof he had actually slept was the environment around him changing slightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every time he woke he had to remind himself of where he was. Where Dhas and Enzra were. Where Shiro was. Every time his eyes blinked open his nostrils flared and something flinched inside of him where he did not smell his mate. The anxiety didn’t relent, his troubled sleep was less restful and more an incubator for his misgivings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept trying again hoping the next bout of sleep would ease his mind and his weary body. His mind seemed at odds with his body, overworking itself in the darkness of sleep and leaving Keith clawing back to the surface.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith,” Krolia’s voice was jarring. Keith immediately jerked awake, his limbs pins and needles. “A tech engineer is being sent over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What did that mean? Keith dragged his body upright, blinking towards the pod where his kits were sleeping much easier than he had. Krolia had her comm in her hands, much older and chunkier tech than what the Empire was using, but more secure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tech engineer?” Keith repeated, groggy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia watched him with a wary eye and handed him a pouch of water, “Kolivan wants you to have comm access, but he also wants the tech to make sure you and the kits aren’t being tracked.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith drank down the remainder of the pouch and his stomach soured, his body and head aching from every movement, “What does </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> mean? I don’t want anyone near the kits.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The pod might have tracking capabilities, I would be surprised if it didn’t,” Krolia explained. “The ship has signal dampeners so we have some time, but we don't need the little ones checked directly yet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s nose wrinkled at the thought of any sort of “checking” of him or the kits, “No, no one is going to see them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith, you can pass on this one but you should let the medic at least-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, they have never left my sight and there was never an opportunity for the Empire to do anything to them,” Keith pulled the blanket off of him and stumbled off the cot. He teetered towards the pod, looking in to check that both kits were still soundly sleeping inside. “The Program doesn’t do any medical work on kits until they are at least a year old, I was there, I know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia was quiet for a moment, “Can he at least check the pod? You can turn the display off so he won’t even see them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith sighed and turned to his mother, “Fine. Yeah. What else?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was watching him with a veiled expression, Keith hated that she was treating him as if he were being </span>
  <em>
    <span>difficult,</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Can he check you for trackers?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s ears pinned back and he crossed his arms, his thoughts settling down to the thin collar still around his throat hidden by his Blades’ suit, “Does he have a way to cut the collar off?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia’s face tightened, she was trying not to react. Part of Keith wanted her to, part of him hated it. “Yes, he’s prepared for that. But he’s got to scan you for any implants… or anything else.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So she had noticed the piercing. Keith pressed it to the roof of his mouth as he wondered if the Empire did hide trackers in their jewelry. It seemed too small, too solid to have anything hidden away inside of it. But he knew their tech was more complicated and advanced than the Blade knew, there was no reason they wouldn’t. But the thought of taking it off and leaving a hole in its place was equally distressing as keeping it in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s the tech?” Keith asked, dropping his arms so his mom would see he was open to the idea. For now at least. He had to keep reminding himself that he was in control of this, simply being able to say no and have it respected was new. He was used to refusing and then having no choice, no compromise. He had to learn to accept compromise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Loktak,” Krolia answered, “He’s one of the Blade’s best for Empire tech now, Kolivan is assigning him to all the technology from the ship.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loktak, Keith remembered him. Back when he was living in one of the secluded bases with his mother, back when he was still fighting to get put into training, Loktak had been one of the few other galra in his age group. Lok was nice enough, but Keith had been mostly a loner when he was young so there was little he could remember specifically about him. Keith had rebuffed most of his attempts to get friendly, moreso when Keith presented omega. Loktak was an alpha, at least half of the Blades were, and Keith made it a point to avoid them unless he had to work with them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s on blockers, right?” Keith asked, it hadn’t really sunk in how protective and cautious he felt. He didn’t want to see any of the other Blades, not while his breasts were full for nursing and he knew he reeked of </span>
  <em>
    <span>omega.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He hadn’t been around an alpha other than Shiro for nearly two years, none he didn’t already have a strong established relationship with like Krolia and Kolivan. He didn’t know what would happen or how he would respond.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course, it's required,” Krolia answered, then turned to dig in her pack. “I brought scent mask for you actually, in case you wanted it. Lok has been briefed on the situation already, like I said he’s been assigned to everything that came off that ship.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith immediately imagined that meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>him,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but shook the thought away. This wasn’t the Empire, he wasn’t a captive. If anything, it meant Shiro. But still, he didn’t feel comforted by the fact that Lok was briefed. He itched at the thought of his humiliation and captivity being </span>
  <em>
    <span>known.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took the vial of mask from his mom’s outstretched hand, “What about blockers for me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t while you’re nursing,” Krolia answered quickly, blinking away when Keith pulled down the high neck on his suit to apply the mask to his scent glands directly. She obviously wasn’t ready to see his bond mark, or the collar that was about to be cut off. “Even if we had the supplies for weaning and bottle-feeding them, we don’t have any for omegas on board. There’s been supply issues, actually.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Blade’s supply of blockers and suppressants was part of a complicated trade chain that spanned through resistance groups and planets. While alpha blockers were easy to get a hold of due to the Empire manufacturing their own, omega blockers were rare. The Empire disrupted the resources and trading of them often, because an omega off blockers was easier to locate. There weren’t many galra omegas outside the Empire, in fact Keith had never met another, but other species relied on the supply. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s fine,” Keith didn’t have any other choice anyways. “Is this guy coming soon? I don't want him here when the kits wake up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s on his way, five minutes,” Krolia answered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re staying for it,” It wasn’t a question, it was a request.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Keith,” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her worried eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith left to go to the small lavatory. It was closet-sized, the sink and toilet built into the walls, shower head in the ceiling. He didn’t have time to bathe properly, so he just scrubbed the rationed water over his face. The grime of sweat, tears and stress thick in his soft fur. At least the Blade suit covered all of his body and reduced how much his scent traveled. He didn’t look in the mirror, couldn’t have a reference for what this stranger was going to see.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door chimed by the time Keith stepped out, a vaguely familiar voice at the comm, “Loktak reporting, may I enter?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia turned to Keith with a questioning look, wanting his final permission. But even if Keith refused, it would still need to happen later. So he nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door slid open and a large galra in Blade uniform stepped inside. His mask was off, hood down, as he was among his own. He was around Shiro’s size, but his fur had a distinct azure tint and he was followed by a thick tail. Keith immediately remembered him by that, the only other Galra on that base who had a tail. It was as thick as the alpha’s arm, a long brush of coarse fur almost touching the ground.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Krolia, Keith,” Loktak greeted, he was controlling his expression but Keith almost sensed a sort of glee about him. It unsettled him, but at least the alpha was neutral in scent from blockers. “I am the tech engineer assigned to the asset recovery from the Empire ship you came in on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once again Keith had to remind himself that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> was not an asset, not an object scavenged from the wreckage. Not like the last time his ship was taken.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you seen Shiro yet?” Keith asked before he could stop himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia’s eyes darted to Keith, but both of the Blade alphas kept their expression neutral, unsurprised.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Briefly,” Loktak answered, “I was only at holding to secure the tech they confiscated from the Admiral. I’m putting together an inventory of everything secured from the ship, so if there are any assets you want just let me know. Here, I set up a comm for you, my contact and the contacts of everyone on board are in it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loktak produced a clunky, black comm from his tool sack and held it out for Keith. Krolia took it when Keith didn’t unfold his arms to take it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There were crates of supplies on board,” Keith said instead, “Things I need for the kits are in them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course, yeah,” Loktak was uncomfortable, at least, that was Keith’s impression. He didn’t know this alpha enough to be able to discern the micro expressions in his yellow eyes. How long had it been since Keith needed to tell what an alpha was thinking without relying on scent? “You can message me what exactly you need later and I’ll arrange it. Is that the transportation pod?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith leaned his body back against the pod, “Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“May I scan it for trackers?” Loktak stepped forward, rummaging through his tool pack, “These pods are really resource heavy and valuable to the Empire, I haven’t got a look at one myself before but I assume-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> come closer,” Keith growled, his hands claws on the pod behind him. Whatever it was this alpha wanted with the pod left Keith’s mind the moment he stepped </span>
  <em>
    <span>too close.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Keith’s mind was nothing but the screeching instinct to keep this galra as far away from his kits as possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loktak, at least, did stop in his tracks. And then took a passive step backward with a hand raised, “Sorry, sorry, uh-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned to Krolia for help, but she was just watching as Keith bared his teeth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Listen, Keith,” Loktak took a device out from his pack, and held it up, “This is just a scanner, it locates tracking hardware and nullifies their signals. I don’t need to touch the pod, and I don’t need to take it apart or anything right now. We can just scan it and call it a day.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s fur was on end, he regretted ever allowing a stranger into his new den. He couldn’t think straight, he could barely focus on the words as they came out of the strange alpha’s mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll scan it,” Krolia broke the tension and took the device from Loktak’s hands, “Anyone have a problem with that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith relaxed a touch. Fine, he thought. Compromise, he thought. He stepped aside to let his mother come close with the scanner, keeping himself between the pod and the tech. Krolia initiated the scanner, a purple light sprung to life and the chunky device clicked and beeped as she led the light over the sealed pod. It reminded Keith of the light that would scan over him during his medical exams, exploring his insides while he laid nude in bondage for it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, this was different. These were his people, this was being done not for exploitation but </span>
  <em>
    <span>protection.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He had to keep reminding himself, that he was safe, the kits were safe. This was part of being safe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Display says it has </span>
  <em>
    <span>four</span>
  </em>
  <span> trackers on it,” Krolia said, “Only one is sending an SOS, the others look like they are just limited range back-up trackers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith grit his teeth and shivered, of course the damn thing was sending out an alert. It must have been since Shiro turned off the main network connection on the ship. Kolivan must have diverted this patrol ship away from where the ship and pod would have sent initial signals, but how much did the dampening of the hull actually stop the signals? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thought of the Empire tailing them to drag him and the kits back was enough to make Keith feel ill. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay that’s fine, just hit the shut off scan and it will disable what it can,” Loktak instructed from the other side of the small suite. “I’m surprised it doesn’t have a lock down protocol or an alarm, honestly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith frowned at him, “There are </span>
  <em>
    <span>kits</span>
  </em>
  <span> inside of it, if it locked down the pod then they wouldn’t be able to be taken out to be cared for. The Empire wants them back </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They are more valuable than anything on this ship.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loktak winced at the correction and Keith revelled in the fact that he had the power to do that to the alphas in the Blade. He might as well, if he was going to be the only omega and the only omega with young within a thousand lightyears, he should be able to snap back. This galra was here to take stock, to remove the marks of the Empire off Keith and the kits, he deserved to touch some of the reality of what that meant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, of course,” The alpha was almost sheepish, “Kolivan said that you uh, that you have a device on you that might have a tracker. He wanted me to remove it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The collar. This Blade couldn’t even broach the topic properly. Keith bristled at the fact that Kolivan had told </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he was collared by the Empire, moreso for some reason that this stupid tech couldn’t even say the word.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My collar,” Keith offered, glaring. “You mean the collar.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith,” Krolia warned gently.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, he can just say it,” Keith snarled, stepping aside as his mother took the scanner back to Loktak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loktak looked out of his element. Tech engineers usually picked up technology because they weren’t good at things like, well, whatever it was Keith was putting everyone through. If Keith wasn’t an omega with an armload of kits this whole procedure would be done with Kolivan and others present. They were breaking up the rescue receiving protocol to not overload Keith, and they let this tech breach him first. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would that be okay?” Loktak asked softly, “I mean, may I remove it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t even say the word. Keith scoffed, “How do you plan on doing that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What kind of lock does it have? I can break an electric lock easy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith smiled, “It's a genetic lock, I’m pretty sure. Only Shiro or the Program can remove it. You’re gonna need metal cutters.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have metal cutters,” Loktak grasped onto that foothold, digging into his tool pack. “Can you show it to me? I need to know what gauge will work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith?” Krolia tilted her head at Keith, her ears forward, “You alright? We can do this another time if you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I want it gone,” Keith’s nose wrinkled up in a snarl, his tail whipping the air behind him in a clear broadcast of how frustrated and annoyed he was. He unclasped his suit at his throat, pulling the zipper down until the tight neckline dropped against his shoulders. He was grateful for the scent mask his mom had given him, but even with that he was still exposing not only the collar Shiro had picked for him, but the bond mark he had left with his teeth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith swallowed hard against the thin metal at his throat as both his mom and the tech stared at it. It must be so alien to them, seeing someone with a permanent shackle around their neck like a dog. Everyone knew the Empire did this and worse, but knowing and seeing were two different things. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay well,” Loktak’s eyebrows twitched, his eyes flicking to Keith’s bondmark and back to the collar in turn, “It’s pretty thin at least, and it's not tight so that makes things easier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should make sure it doesn’t have security protocols,” Krolia said softly, crossing her arms and letting her gaze fall off Keith. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, yes, thank you,” Loktak bent his knees and set to work pulling devices and cutters out from his pack. Keith wondered how long it would be until he wasn’t a project or subject, with the Empire or the Blades. “I have to do a scan over you too, Keith, Kolivan’s orders. Wants to make sure you don’t have any implants or anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s ears pinned, “I don’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> that though,” Loktak wasn’t as sheepish when he wasn’t needing to look at Keith’s snarling face. “Empire implants can be real small, but usually we can deactivate them without having to get them out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith’s glare flicked to his mom, wanting to commiserate his disgust with her, but she was staring down at the tools on the floor. Keith grit his teeth and dragged his piercing through his mouth. He needed this to be over quick. He needed this guy gone, he needed space again to think. And to take care of the kits, they would wake up soon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, let’s look at this,” Loktak straightened back up, he towered over Keith for a moment before hunkering down on bent knees, attempting to make himself smaller. As if Keith was a child, or an easily spooked animal. “Uh, sorry, I’m going to scan it first…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith held fierce eye contact with the strange alpha. He was ready to lash out, whether verbally or literally, and he needed Loktak to know. The tangle of indignation, caution, fear, and protective instincts had Keith choked in the center of it. He couldn’t function right now, and he didn’t care. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loktak lifted a device, smaller than the one used on the transport pod, and blinked its light over the collar. He squinted at the small digital readout, “Okay, tracker is built in as expected. Looks like besides identification information there isn't anything else on it, really bare bones. I thought these things were more intrusive than this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith shivered from how close the alpha was to him, his tail stiff and turning in between his legs, “The old one was.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one said anything to that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I take it off?” Loktak asked softly, holding up the small cutters in his gloved hand. “It will be quick, I just need to be able to touch it and maybe you a bit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith glared at him, and growled low before, “Fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Loktak’s hands were almost as large as Shiro’s. That was Keith’s first thought as the galra’s hands came up to his throat. He delicately pinched the collar between two fingers, pulling it as far to the side as it would go. He pulled it towards Keith’s exposed bond mark. Keith’s ears flattened, he growled, no real reason Loktak would need to cut it on </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stay still,” Loktak said quietly. It wasn’t an order, it wasn’t even a warning. Keith grit his teeth as he felt the grind of the cutters vibrate through the collar to his throat. It would be one cut, simple, and the tech was really taking his time to be careful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cut the metal. Keith’s ears were full of the metallic scrape, the whine as the metal was cut between the sharp blades. He trembled. Something about this felt wrong, his hands were unbound and they shot up to push against Loktak’s chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, just wait I can-” Loktak’s hands were gripping the metal around Keith’s neck, attempting to pry it open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Get off me,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Keith growled the words between his clenched teeth and shoved Loktak back. The galra stumbled back, a dumb surprised look on his face, but nothing else.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Keith are you okay?” Krolia stepped up, reaching to touch-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I need everyone out,” Keith snapped. He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>do this.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Whatever this was. Panic was pumping through him and he couldn’t find where it started or ended. He hissed between his teeth, going tense and backing against the transport pod, “Get </span>
  <em>
    <span>out.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia, to her credit, nodded her understanding and started snatching up Loktak’s equipment immediately, “You heard him, that’s enough for today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Somehow even just that acknowledgement set Keith off more. The panic turning into rage quickly, souring and sticking to his insides as he growled openly at the Blades on the other side of the room. Loktak looked shocked, and Keith drank that up. Let the ignorant, sheltered alpha see a fierce omega, let him see the damage done.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Krolia all but pushed Loktak out of the room, but turned before she sealed up the door behind her, “Take your time, Keith, I’ll contact you on your new comm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door closed and Keith was </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His thoughts blurred together, colored by both distress and rage. He pulled the Blade suit off and went to the small bathroom, punching the shower on and letting it run over his bristled fur. The scent mask was thick, he had applied too much to compensate, and he missed the natural scent he knew his kits would crave when they woke. He washed the mask off, washed his anxiety and anger off. He let himself relax by degrees, realizing again how </span>
  <em>
    <span>exhausted</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith felt the collar around his neck, felt the place the metal was sliced away. He needed it off properly, he knew, but for some reason he wasn’t ready. Especially not for some stranger to try and pry it off of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rubbed down his aching, tensed body, his hand landing at his bond mark and pressing. The small pressure there was reassuring. Releasing a chemical reaction in him that he didn’t know he was craving. He found his dumb omega brain craving </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shiro.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His mate. His scent. His presence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He punched the shower off and shook the water from him. He pressed the thoughts down into a containable shape, one he could work in his hands without letting it over take him. And went out to his cot. He wanted to curl up and close his eyes until the little ones woke needing feeding. He needed it. He needed to clear his head too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The new comm was sitting in the middle of the small bed. Keith’s ears perked to it, picking it up as he crawled under the blanket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the same type of comm he had before he was captured. Thicker in his hands than his Empire pad, the display screen dim between layers of protective clear metals. He ran it through a set-up, had it register his fingerprint and security information. It was comforting, how familiar it was, and Keith was happy to finally have something he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>communicate</span>
  </em>
  <span> with. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was already a message on it from his mom. Just one quick message, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Love you. I’m so glad you’re back. Take all the time you need.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith sighed into his pillow. He was putting her through too much, wasn’t he? Whatever, there wasn’t too much he could do. He was barely a day out of captivity. No one could expect him to be adjusted already. Especially not him. The silence in the small suite helped Keith remember that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scrolled around on the files available to him, all categorized under a case number he knew was for him, Shiro, and the whole rescue-slash-captive situation. Most of the files were locked down, the only one that caught Keith’s eye was the inventory Loktak had mentioned. Keith wanted his things from the ship, the bedding and equipment and toys for the kits. So he clicked on it and scanned through the ship’s schematic information, the pads, the weaponry, the bodies, and…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A bionic arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Keith went cold. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Remember to check out my twitter for info on early chapter releases! @Rifatrope</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Follow me on Twitter to stay up to date and learn how to see early updates to my fics! @rifatrope</p></blockquote></div></div>
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